Call of the Siren (11 page)

Dagan’s eyes drew down to her heaving chest, darkening with desire. He forced them back up with visible effort. “Me and you together wouldn’t just be about sex. It couldn’t be.”

He was right, and she couldn’t deny it. This wasn’t about indulging a physical itch. It was so much more. It was about starting to live again. About healing.

She lifted one hand to his face, shivering at the scratch of his stubble against her palm. “What about what we talked about last night? We can’t live in the past forever, Dagan. I don’t know what
this
is, but you feel it too. I know you do. And I think we owe it to ourselves to see it through.”

His eyes bored into hers, as if he strove to see into her very soul. “What about Ronin?” he finally said.

“I love Ronin.” The words surprised her, but once she’d said them, she found they were true. “I tried not to care about him again. I didn’t want to be hurt if I lost him once more. But in my heart, he’s my brother. He always will be.”

When a grin began to transform Dagan’s face, she continued, “Still, that doesn’t mean he gets to dictate how I—how
we
—live our lives.”

His smile fled, and he searched her face, as if questioning the veracity of her statement.

“You’re right, “he said finally, loosening his grip on her shoulders. “I’ll talk to Ronin.”

“We can talk to him together.
Later.
”

When she leaned forward, he didn’t fight it this time. He tangled his hands into her hair and pulled her to him, covering her mouth with his own.

Victory.

His fingers slowly slid her top up, and she found herself grateful that her breasts were small and firm enough that she could get away with not wearing a bra. But part of her felt insecure, too. He’d had a lot of women, seen a lot of breasts. Probably a fair number of them had been far more spectacular than hers.

Their size didn’t seem to bother him, however. He cupped them and broke away with a groan, leaning back to examine them.

“You’re so beautiful, Lina. Like an unspoiled work of art.”

She snorted at that. Would he think her so unspoiled if he knew she’d been hooked on score? She was far from innocent. “I’m not—”

“Shh. Later.” His lips moved to her throat, teeth scraping lightly and tongue gliding across her heated skin. She moaned and leaned into him, moving her hand down to the stiff length tenting his boxer shorts. Her hand closed over him, and he shuddered.

A silky laugh escaped her lips, and she allowed her hand to creep upward, about to slide it into the waistband of his boxers…when an unexpected pounding sound rent the air. Her heart thudded in response, and she sat back with a start. “What’s that?”

Dagan’s confused but alarmed gaze met hers. He had time to do no more than tug her shirt down before the door leading out to the deck exploded in a mess of wood and splinters.

Lina leaped off Dagan and whirled around, ready to duke it out with whatever awaited on the other side. She couldn’t hold back her shocked gasp when, instead of the army of villains she had expected, she saw a very familiar, extremely
enraged
figure.

“Ronin!” Dagan’s voice sounded guilty as sin when he jumped up and faced his brother, and Lina had to admit, she’d never seen Ronin so pissed before. Not even close.

“What are you doing here?” Dagan asked.

The fierce anger on Ronin’s face morphed into a grin that was somehow a million times more frightening. It bespoke the menace that oozed out of his every pore, blasting the room with a current of negative energy as thick as fog. “I could say the same to you,
little brother
.”

Lina looked from Ronin to Dagan, who, based on the defensive posture he’d formed, must have felt the same thing she had. The current of uneasiness in the room flamed to a turbulent crescendo. Then, with a low, threatening growl, Ronin launched himself at Dagan, leaving Lina with just one frantic thought…

Oh shit.

Ronin’s right fist connected with a loud, sickening crack, and Dagan stumbled back, blood spurting from his nose. He closed a hand over it. “Shit. That hurt!”

“It was supposed to.” Ronin shot his left fist toward Dagan’s face. It made contact with the side of Dagan’s face, but he made no move to defend himself.

“Stop it,” Lina yelled, but Ronin didn’t even glance her way. He kept his gaze trained on Dagan, his mouth open on a snarl.

“I can explain if you’ll let me,” Dagan growled at Ronin as he placed his hand on the cheek that must be throbbing.

“Fuck that. Fight back, damn you.” He came at Dagan with another jab, but Dagan simply edged to the side, eyes blazing with emotion.

Lina fought the urge to forcibly break them apart. Clearly they had issues they needed to discuss, but they didn’t have to get physical. At least not in
her
apartment. “You guys need to stop.”

Neither of them paid her any heed.

“I slept on the couch,” Dagan bit out, his jaw clenched. “Nothing happened.”

“Yeah, I saw
nothing
happening through the window of the door,” Ronin countered on a roar. “I told you to stay away from her, but you just couldn’t resist another one-night stand, could you?”

“Go to hell.” Dagan flung himself at Ronin, and the two went flying around the room in a whirlwind of elbows and fists. Dagan shoved Ronin backward, and his foot collided with her guitar, cracking the wood. He launched himself back at Dagan, not even noticing the damage he’d caused.

Oh, now she was pissed. Her old trainer Getty had given her that guitar, telling her she needed to find some balance in her life. Next to her training, it was the only reminder she had of him. And now, like so much else in her life, it was broken.

“That’s it!” Fury spread through her veins as she stomped over to the fighting pair. Ronin had pushed Dagan against the wall and was choking him. Dagan, for his part, was choking Ronin back. The two were acting like a pair of rabid dogs, and she’d had enough.

Lina lifted her foot and kicked the backside of Ronin’s knee. Hard. He howled and dropped to the floor. Dagan had time to do no more than blink in surprise before she delivered the same kick to the side of his knee. He followed Ronin down, and they both stared up at her, twin expressions of shock on their faces.

“I can tell you two are brothers, because you’re both major
assholes
.”

Without waiting for a response, she stomped over one of the barstools set up by her pass-through window and snatched up the leather jacket she’d tossed there last night.

“I’m going out. When I get back, I expect the both of you to be gone.”

She wrenched her jacket on and was already halfway out the door before Ronin spoke up, his voice choked with pain. “Lina, wait! I have to tell you somethi—”

“Ronin, you’re my brother, and gods help me, I love you,” she said, turning back to face him. “So take it with absolute sincerity when I say these two words to you. Fuck off!”

Lina slammed the door shut behind her, taking great comfort in its resounding
bang
.

Chapter Twelve

Central Park in the summertime was one of Lina’s favorite sights. The leaves were a fresh, vibrant green. From her spot on the iron Pine Bank Arch, she had a perfect view of the kaleidoscope of shades blanketing the park. The early morning mist added an alluring aura of mystique to the surrounding space, and a light breeze ruffled her hair, turning back the lapels of her jacket. She loved coming here whenever she needed to relax—or think. Right now, she was the only soul in sight, quite a refreshing experience when one lived in a city this size.

Something had changed. Something inside her. For the first time since Sara’s death, Lina felt…something.

Alive.

There was no mistaking where it had come from. Dagan. He made her want to move on from the past. Made her long for happiness again.

No doubt about it, they were two lost souls, two people so focused on the things they’d been through that they couldn’t see what was right in front of them. But together, they might be able to help each other out of it.

The words they’d shared last night haunted her, because for the first time she realized what she’d allowed herself to become.

Nothing.

A hollowed-out shell of the person she once was. She’d used her daughter’s death as an excuse to stop living. To stop trying.

She’d given up on life, choosing instead to simply go through the motions. And maybe she’d even wished for death. That would certainly explain her unorthodox choice to become a mercenary. Because the sooner she died, the sooner she joined her daughter in the afterlife. Which meant one thing…

You, Lina, are a total cop-out.

The realization stunned her more than she cared to admit. All these years she thought she’d been strong, when really it had been the exact opposite. She’d allowed herself not to feel, to become nothing more than a fighting machine. Because she had been too
weak
to accept the pain of her loss.

Oh, Sara. I miss you so much.

A stray tear meandered down her cheek, and she absently swiped it away. She’d been wrong not to honor Sara’s memory by speaking of her, by remembering her. Today she would remedy that by marching right over to Ronin’s apartment and telling him and Dagan about Sara. She’d tell them everything.

Well,
almost
everything.

There were some things she could never share. Things that, if they knew, would disgust them so completely they’d never want to see her again.

No, those things were best kept locked inside a vault inside her head, where only she could ever find them.

Those things were unforgiveable.

“You look sad,” said a low, familiar voice.

Lina’s fingers tightened on the railing. Shocked, she shifted her gaze toward the man who stepped up on her right-hand side. “
Thorne
.”

His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ve missed you.”

“What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

Thorne shrugged.

Rising suspicion made her frown and take a step back. “Have you been following me?”

“I come here often. I live nearby,” he said, nodding his head to the right.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Some distressed emotion glistened in his eyes. “I wanted to talk to you. We never settled things between us, Lina.”

“What’s there to say? We loved each other once. We had a child. Neither of those things are true anymore.”

He shook his head, lips pursing. “You owe it to me to talk things out.”

A flood of anger made her whole body shake. “
Owe
it to you?”

He sighed. “I mean—”

“I know what you meant.” She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. He was wrong. She owed him nothing. But she did owe it to
herself
. Thorne was one loose thread she should have resolved long ago.

“Okay, fine. Let’s talk.”

His brows rose in obvious surprise, but he nodded and said, “Not here. My apartment is just a few blocks away.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

Thorne turned and then peeked back at her, almost as if he didn’t expect her to follow. She fell into step beside him, silently accompanying him out of the park. When her gaze strayed to him, she allowed herself the freedom to study his profile. Once upon a time, the very sight of him had made her go weak with desire. She’d found him unbearably beautiful, with his tall build, light skin, and blond hair.

Now all she saw was a pale shadow of a true man.

Compared to Dagan and his strong, radiant beauty, Thorne was nothing.

He noticed her staring, and a small smile curved his lips. “We always had a spark between us, didn’t we? I still feel it, burning hot as ever.”

She opened her mouth to correct his misconception, but honestly, he wasn’t worth the trouble. So she simply screwed her lips shut and continued on in silence.

Several minutes later, they arrived at Thorne’s apartment—a tiny, one-bedroom walk-up located just blocks from the Fordham University campus. Lina stepped into the living room, taking in the worn beige carpet, nondescript furniture, and the room’s distinct lack of personality. It looked as if the space could belong to any old college student.

“Live here long?” she asked.

“It’s just temporary. I’ve got plans for bigger and better things.” He unexpectedly grasped her elbow and turned her to face him. “Lina, why did you leave me back on Infernum? I came home one day and you were gone without a trace. I had to learn from your friend Betta that Sara was dead.”

She stared at him, astounded. “Don’t you remember what happened?”

His brows furrowed. “You left.”

“No,” she choked out. “Before then.”

When he continued to look puzzled, she wrestled out of his grasp and stalked to the other side of the room, swallowing past the thick lump constricting her throat. Was it possible that he didn’t even remember his role in Sara’s death?

After taking a long moment to compose herself, she whirled to face Thorne. “You remember that she was sick, right? Very sick?”

Thorne nodded his head slowly. “Yes, but she was getting better. Wasn’t she?”

“Better?” Gods, he
didn’t
remember. Which meant that, to achieve the closure she so desperately needed, she would have to relive the one most painful memory of her life.

No.

But what choice did she have?

Her body shook with agony at the remembrance of the day that changed everything. Wrapping her arms around her stomach, she swallowed hard…and spoke.

“She had a relapse. The plague had begun to affect her lungs. I called the doctor, and he said she needed more medicine, so you took the last of our money and went out to get it.”

“I…” His brows drew down. “I don’t remember that.”

“I waited over a day for you to return, but you didn’t. I…gods help me, I should have been out there, searching for a way to get her the medicine she needed. I should have done
something.
But I believed in you. I thought you would come. I
waited
for you
.
”

Thorne’s face screwed up with emotion, and he took a step forward. “Lina…”

“No,” she gasped, stumbling back a face paces. She had to finish this. Had to tell the rest of the story.

“She died in my arms, Thorne.” She’d looked so peaceful, so cozy nestled into Lina’s body. As if she merely slept. Lina had thought she
was
sleeping. Even now she could remember looking down at the beautiful baby in her arms. Smiling at the thought that her little angel was finally getting some rest. Hopeful that she was getting better. But then she’d noticed…

Even sleeping children breathed, and Sara wasn’t.

She’d died,
she’d died in her very arms
, and Lina hadn’t been able to do a thing to stop it. Hadn’t been able to breathe life back into those tiny lungs, no matter how hard or how long she’d tried.

“Oh…” She gasped for breath, the painful memories twisting inside her and wrenching the air from her lungs. Oh gods, how had she even survived that moment? If it had been possible to die of a broken heart, her life would have ended right then. But no, she’d been forced to go on living. To go on hurting, wondering what could have been.

To suffer this wretched half-life…without her sweet, innocent baby. Knowing she might have been able to save her, had she acted differently. Had she been the mother Sara needed.

“Aw shit, Lina.” Thorne made another move toward her, but she held up a hand to stop him.

“No.” Now that she’d begun, she wanted to finish. “I didn’t know who to call, so I called Betta. She told me she’d seen you at our dealer’s house.”

Thorne stiffened and very real confusion marred his features. “I…”

“You’d spent every last dime on score, Thorne,” Lina sobbed. “While our daughter was dying in my arms, you were getting high on the money that could have saved her life.”

His fists clenched at his sides, and a muscle in his jaw ticked. “
I
did that?”

When Lina’s knees buckled, she gave in to the impulse to sink down onto the couch and bury her head in her hands. “She was just a baby, Thorne.
Our
baby. Not even one year old, and we let her down, the both of us, when we were supposed to be the ones to protect her. We were too fucked up to even help her when she needed it.”

“Lina.” Thorne sat beside her and rested a hand on her back.

“The child of two druggie parents.” She let out the bitter laugh that clogged her throat. “Who am I kidding? She didn’t even stand a chance.”

“Lina.” Thorne wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. It was surprisingly familiar. He had always smelled like earth…and cigarettes. That hadn’t changed.

“We should forget the past.”

She stiffened and pulled back to meet his gaze. “What?”

“We’ve always been great together. We can do that again.”

Her mouth dropped open as her brain tried to process Thorne’s astounding leap from achieving closure to somehow getting back together. “What are you talking about?”

Thorne smiled, and she was once again struck by the familiarity of it. He’d always gotten that shit-eating grin on his face when he was working on his next scam. “Think about it. I’m sure you’ve made some great money as a mercenary, and I’m working on something that’s gonna pay out
huge
. We put that together and we can get an amazing place, on any world we want.”

“A…place?”

“We can go into business together.” He paused hesitantly before continuing, “I know a guy who could use some cash inflow. He’d give us a huge cut of his profits.”

She froze, beginning to catch his drift. “You mean a drug dealer.”

His skin reddened. “I don’t do the stuff anymore, but you have to admit, there’s a lot of money to be made in that line of work.”

When she remained speechless, Thorne’s fingers tightened on her arms, and he spoke more animatedly. “Just think, we could have everything we’ve ever dreamed of. We can even have another child.”

Lina blinked at him. “Another
child
?”

“You know,” he prodded. “To replace Sara.”

His words penetrated through her haze of shock and confusion.

Replace Sara
.

Like she was some piece of furniture they had worn out and tossed in the dump. Like she was nothing.

Lina shrugged out of Thorne’s grasp. To her surprise, her voice sounded steady when she said, “You forgot one thing, Thorne.”

He scratched his head. “What?”

“We’re not the same people we were back then. Case in point.” She did the one thing she’d dreamt about doing for the past two years. She cocked her fist back and let it fly toward his face.

“Ow!” Thorne went zooming off the couch, landing in a heap by the far wall. He clutched his nose, and when he took his hands away, they were covered in blood. His wide-eyed gaze lifted to hers. “What the fuck?”

Lina rose and stalked over to him, crouching down so they were eye-to-eye. When he instinctively flinched, she didn’t bother to hide the smile that crept to her face. “See, after I left you, I managed to grow a backbone.”

“But—”

“You can’t
replace
a daughter, just like you can’t bring back a love that’s died a fiery, drug-fueled death.” She reached out a hand and patted his cheek. “So I hope you found your closure, Thorne, because the devil knows I got mine.”

When she straightened, Thorne reached out for her, but she took a step back. “Have a nice life.”

Lina turned and headed for the door, but Thorne’s unexpected laughter froze her in her tracks. She whirled to face him. “What’s so funny?”

A trickle of blood streamed down his chin as he struggled to his feet. Sliding his hands in his pockets, he sauntered toward her. “Just that this makes my job a whole lot easier.”

His cryptic words gave her pause. “What does that mean?”

“You’re not leaving.”

“Like hell I’m not.”

He suddenly slid one hand out of his pocket and lunged for her arm. She twisted, wrenching out of his grasp. Kicking out with one foot, she buckled his left leg out from under him. But he grabbed onto the sleeve of her jacket as he fell, and his other hand jerked out of his pocket. She saw the syringe a split second before he jabbed it through her shirt and into her stomach, dispensing the contents into her body.

“What the fuck?” Lina backhanded Thorne, and he went skidding backward along the carpeted floor. She jerked the syringe out of her stomach, but when she tried to take a step forward, her vision narrowed, and her legs refused to move. She crashed to the ground, but her body didn’t even process the pain. It felt as if she’d landed on pillow of clouds.

“What…did you do?” she gasped.

“Sorry, but you’ll be sleeping for a while,” he said, scrambling to his feet and walking over to her. “That huge payout I told you about? See, you’re part of the whole scheme.”