If the man on the ground had any sense, he’d be terrified. Because he was dealing with sirens. When push comes to shove, they can use their magic to make a man do almost anything without hesitation. I, myself, had used my talent to save my life and that of my friends. The result still haunted my nightmares.
Why did he look so familiar? Damn it. I would swear I’d never met the guy, and yet— Nope. I couldn’t remember, and the harder I chased the thought, the more elusive it became.
I was still trying to remember when the EMTs arrived a few minutes later.
“I’m going with the ambulance.” It wasn’t a question. He’d have to bind me tighter than he had the prisoner if he wanted to stop me.
Baker turned to Griffiths. “Go with the prisoner. I’ll see to Ms. Peahi. When she’s stable, I’ll bring the princess to headquarters. She can help with the questioning.”
I watched as the EMTs gently placed my unconscious grandmother on the gurney. The man on the ground had attacked a helpless little old woman, would have done God alone knew what to her before he was done. Hell, yes, I’d help with the questioning.
I was looking forward to it.
* * *
Even in an ambulance, the drive to the hospital took awhile. The streets were just that crowded. Less than twenty-four hours remained before the ceremonies on Serenity were to take place, and excitement was building to a fever pitch.
My grandmother began stirring after a few minutes and soon she was asking what had happened and complaining that she was fine.
She didn’t remember a thing after waking up that morning.
On the one hand, that was a relief. She’d been so terrified, it was a mercy for her not to have to remember.
On the other hand, she’d make a lousy witness when it came to trial. And I was more than a little worried by the amnesia. The chemical on the rag was simple chloroform; it shouldn’t have caused memory problems.
I wanted to ask the EMTs, but I didn’t want to alarm Gran. I concentrated hard and sent my question directly into the thoughts of the woman taking my grandmother’s vital signs.
She glanced at me before returning her attention to the gauge on the blood pressure cuff.
We’re wondering about her memory as well. It might be the bump on her head, but security took a sample of the cloth he held to her mouth to see if there’s a curse involved, and we’ve swabbed her mouth and nasal passages. I’m sure the doctors will run more tests, but I’m betting there’s magic involved. Try not to worry. She’s old but she’s stronger than she looks. Barring complications, I think she’s going to be fine.
I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding.
Thank God.
How are you? Any bloodlust?
When I thought about it, I was a little surprised that I didn’t feel any, considering the stress I was under. It would be really sad to think that this level of stress was my new normal.
No. But I should probably eat something, sooner rather than later. Is there a cafeteria at the hospital?
Can you eat solids?
Her mental voice managed to sound surprised.
Not really. Baby food, mostly, and stuff run through a blender. Broth or soup will do. I drink nutrition shakes in a pinch.
Then you should be able to get something. But take care of it quick. We don’t want there to be any problems at the hospital.
No. We don’t.
I silently relayed our conversation to Baker, who had pulled out her cell phone and begun sending text messages. She tilted the phone to show me that she was sending more security agents to the hospital. One of them met us as we arrived and handed me a nutrition shake and some broth. Not exactly high-class dining, but it was good enough to keep the monster at bay while we got Gran through the check-in process and into a private room.
The whole time, Gran alternated between insisting that she was fine and worrying aloud about the cost of hospitalization. Eventually they gave her something to help her calm down and rest—or maybe just to get her to shut up. When she was sleeping, deeply and peacefully, I sat beside her for a while, studying her. She looked fragile, old, and tired. Lines of care that hadn’t been there six months ago had etched deep creases between her brows and at the corners of her mouth.
Oh, Gran, why didn’t you
tell
me? I’d have helped. You know I would have.
Queen Lopaka’s mental voice intruded on my thoughts, cold and imperious.
That is good to know. I was appalled when Helen advised me of your grandmother’s situation. I wondered how you could let my brother’s widow sink to such depths. It seemed like atypical behavior for you.
I sighed both physically and mentally as tears filled my eyes.
We had a falling-out when I refused to keep dealing with my mother. The last I knew, Gran had banked the money from the house sale and was living in a nice assisted-living place on the mainland. I knew she was visiting Mom once a month. I’d hoped …
What had I hoped? That Gran would stop being codependent, stop rescuing my mom? The habits of a lifetime are a bitch to break, even if you want to. Which Gran didn’t. She was determined to save my mother from herself, would fight for her salvation to the last breath. But I just didn’t have that in me. I felt my mother should pay for her crimes. She’d broken the law. Only prison could fix what was wrong.
I should’ve checked up on her. I should’ve stopped her somehow. I guess I expected … I don’t know. She’s always been the one to take care of me.
Lopaka’s voice softened in my mind.
She probably hid it from you precisely for that reason. And she very well might have hidden it from your attendant spirit.
The sirens mostly consider me a true siren because I happen to have friends who are clairvoyants and my sister hangs around me, even after death. Prophets and attendant spirits are royal attributes. I consider them mostly coincidence.
Probably. Hiding stuff from me is classic Gran. Yes, she’d hide her problems from Ivy and lie to my mother. And to me. Not to be a martyr, nor a hero. But just because she’s Gran.
Indeed. I see now why my brother loved her. She might not have been siren royalty but she was worthy to be the mate of one.
There was both frustration and admiration in her voice. Typical.
Lopaka’s mental voice sounded exhausted. She’d contacted me mind-to-mind before, even over long distances, without strain. But this time was different. The queen might be recovering, but she wasn’t herself yet by a long shot. I let out a little growl.
You need to rest.
Yes. And I will. But now I need you to go with Agent Baker. The questioning of the prisoner is not going well. Our psychic believes something important will occur tomorrow, but cannot obtain details. While I am willing to use torture if necessary to save lives, Gunnar believes the man’s hatred of you may enrage him enough that he will be unable to guard his thoughts from us if you are in the room.
I didn’t know who Gunnar was and didn’t much care. I didn’t want to leave the hospital; I wanted to stay and make sure that nothing else happened to Gran.
There will be guards on the door at all times. She will be protected.
“Ivy, are you still here?” I spoke both in my head and out loud. My sister’s ghost hadn’t done anything since letting me know she was with us in Gran’s apartment building, so I wasn’t sure I’d get an answer. She used to be with me almost always. Now, she spent her time guarding our mom in prison. It was hard work for the ghost of a grade-school kid, but I was betting she was doing a damned fine job of it. That didn’t stop me from missing her.
The overhead light flashed once. That was our code. One flash meant yes, two no.
“They want me to go question the bad guy. Can you keep an eye on Gran for me?”
The light flashed once again.
“Thanks. Love you, Ivy.” Tears stung my eyes as I looked first up at the light, then down at my grandmother on the bed. The lights flickered wildly for a few seconds. I took that to mean,
Me, too.
I wanted to be there when Gran woke up. We needed to talk, about so many things. Today’s little adventure had taught me not to take her for granted. I was going to work things out with her even if that meant dealing with my mother again.
The queen’s voice tickled my mind again, the tinkling of crystal chimes.
The doctors have assured Adriana that your grandmother will sleep deeply for several hours. If you go now, you may be back before she wakes.
You’re sure?
Please, niece. I will ensure my sister-in-law is safe. But there are others who are not. Lives are at stake. You must go, and quickly.
Put like that, I really didn’t have much choice. The queen was considering this a family matter.
Family.
That meant a lot on this island. I’ve never had much of it. Most everyone I considered family was lying on that hospital bed. I bent down to kiss my grandmother’s cheek. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” I whispered.
* * *
The interrogation room was grim. The cinder-block walls were painted a funky pinkish-tan. Brick red trim surrounded the one-way mirror familiar to anyone who has ever seen a crime drama on television. A battered table was bolted to the floor. On it, untouched, rested two glasses and a sweating plastic pitcher of water.
Again, anyone who watches television knows why the water is there. But you’d be surprised how many people actually drink it. It’s impossible to sit in a room like this and not be nervous. Nerves make a person thirsty. But a full bladder, when there’s no possibility of emptying it, is damned uncomfortable, and pissing yourself is degrading, humiliating, and puts you at a disadvantage with the interviewers. The clock on the wall, with its big, easy-to-read numbers, is there so that the prisoner can’t help but be aware of the seconds, minutes, and hours passing.
If any of this was having an effect on the prisoner, I couldn’t see it. He sat calmly, his arms resting on the table, breathing slow and easy.
He’d obviously played this game before.
So it was time to change the rules.
A large man in a very high-end suit handed me an earpiece. Baker had introduced him as the secretary of Siren Security, Gunnar Thorsen. It was evidently a cabinet post, but with active duties.
Very
active lately.
He looked about as you’d expect from the name: big and Nordic. His long blond hair was pulled back into a braid, revealing chiseled features and eyes the ice blue of a winter sky. His expression was just that cold. “We have a psychic on duty,” he explained.
As if on cue, the psychic began speaking in my ear. “Testing, one, two, three, testing.” I heard her loud and clear.
“It works.”
“Good. You’ve fed?”
I blinked a little at the directness of the question. “Yes.”
“Right. We need him alive and talking.”
Um, wow. Okay. I’ve come close to losing control a time or two, but I have never actually fed off of a human. Nor do I intend to. It would send me over the edge, make me fully a vampire. I am not, and will never be, a bat. Ever.
I looked through the glass at the prisoner and felt a fine burning rage fill me. He was a terrorist. He’d tried to kidnap my gran. I had no idea what he’d intended to do with her, but I assumed it would have been bad. As it was, she’d wound up in the hospital.
I wouldn’t feed on the bastard, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to hurt him.
I beat down my rage by force of will, calming myself with slow, deep, breaths. After a moment, I was back in full control. “I’m good. Let’s do this.”
The psychic nodded in approval, so Thorsen led me out into the interrogation room.
“You!”
The prisoner leapt to his feet, sending the chair crashing to the floor behind him.
“Yup. Me.” I gave him my sunniest, most saccharine smile.
He stood, snarling, breathing as heavily as if he’d been running. It was obviously all he could do not to leap across the room and attack me.
“
He wants to kill you.”
The psychic’s voice came clearly through the ear bud. “
He’s not striking because he knows he can’t make it past Thorsen. But if he sees an opening, he’ll take it. You will need to be very careful. He’s hoping that if he kills you, we will kill him. It will keep him from revealing anything and having the curse take him. He wants to die a martyr to his cause.”
Oh great, a cause. As if any religion justified murder, or the kidnapping of little old ladies. I stared at him and tried to put my finger on what it was about him that seemed so familiar. Who the hell
was
this guy?
“Why do you look so familiar?”
“You don’t recognize me?” He spat the words.
“Should I?”
“
He’s thinking about a brother. Something about a desert and a demon. Damn it, he’s shutting it down. Keep him engaged.
”
A desert. And a demon.
Just like that, I knew. I had never seen him before, but I knew him all the same. The psychic was right. I’d met his brother. His name was Barnes. He’d delivered me to Eirene shortly before she called up a greater demon to devour me and my friends. To save us, I’d used my siren powers, engaging Eirene in a battle to control the men working for her. It had been too much for them. Their minds were destroyed, snuffed out like candles in a hurricane.
I shuddered, my stomach roiling at the memory. It had been an accident. I hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, much less kill them. But I’d done it.
He must have seen my expression. The memory was still raw in my mind. He nodded and sneered. “So, you do remember. You remember what you did to him. Good. I want you to know that you and that other siren bitch are the cause of this. You reminded us why sirens have no place in this world. We will wipe you out like the vermin you are.”
He wasn’t foaming at the mouth, he was
smiling
. That was even more terrifying. Because while I’d done something hideous and evil by accident, his actions were absolutely deliberate.