Call of the Siren (23 page)

Chapter Twenty-One

Darkness had once again fallen over Romania. A thick mist shrouded the castle grounds, partially obscuring Dagan’s vision. That last part was courtesy of the Council liaison Tenos, who had traveled with them and who, as a moon elf, drew his power from the moon. It enabled him to moderately control the elements, including casting mist. Sure, it impeded their ability to see just as much as Belpheg and his men, but they would take every little bit of help they could get.

I can’t believe he’s even here.

Dagan glanced over at the tall, dark elf. He didn’t know why he’d expected the guy to be an asshole. Maybe just because he worked for the Council. But then Dagan and his brothers technically did as well, and they weren’t assholes…usually.

Much to his surprise, Tenos was actually pretty cool. After he’d wandered into the hotel room, they’d thought for a minute they were toast, but it turned out Tenos had been tracking them on his own. He’d shown up simply to warn them that the Council had some new Detainors hot on their trail, but after Keegan had explained what had happened and where they were going, the elf had instantaneously volunteered his assistance.

“If you can bring the dark fae down, they may be willing to grant you leniency,” he’d pointed out.

While Dagan didn’t hold out much hope for that, given the Council members’ track records of being complete dickheads, one could always dream.

After working out the details of their attack, Bram and the rayamara mercenaries had split off to gather corpses that could be used for the resurrection spell—a dirty, nasty job to be sure—and Tenos had accompanied the rest of them through the portal.

Tenos had glanced around with a puzzled frown the moment they’d passed through. “Why wouldn’t the dark fae have men watching the portal for our arrival?”

“Perhaps his resources are limited,” Keegan suggested. “We only saw a handful of guards when we broke through the barrier the first time.”

“Or maybe he just doesn’t care,” Dagan had pointed out. After all, the dark fae seemed pretty confident in his ability to take them on, and so far, with the exception of their surprise rescue of Lina, he’d been right.

“Barrier?” Tenos asked. “What sort of barrier?”

“The dark fae prevents entry or exit from the castle with some sort of invisible shield,” Keegan explained. “We can breach the barrier with a sword we have in our possession, but it’s still a painstaking process.”

Tenos’s face took on a calculating expression. “I think I might be able to use my magic to take down that shield, at least while the moon is high.”

One of Keegan’s brows shot up. “Really?”

Brynn, who stood by Amara and her succubi friends, shifted in her spot, showing the first signs of true life since they’d left the hotel. “If we can bring the barrier down altogether, I can get that many more zombies in. Spread out their location.”

And they might actually stand a chance of beating their powerful foe.

“It’s definitely worth a try,” Dagan had murmured. Especially since they didn’t have any other options right now.

Tentative plan in place, they’d all gathered in the woods outside the castle to await Bram and the mercenaries. Ronin and Keegan had flown off in opposite directions to case the grounds.

To say they were antsy would be the understatement of the year. Fear and anxiety reverberated throughout the hidden clearing in which they all gathered. Each and every one of them seemed lost in his or her thoughts.

Would they even live to see the light of day?

“This is crazy,” Lina finally whispered, so low that Dagan barely heard her even though she was standing closest to him. “I can’t believe we’re going to storm the castle.
Again.
”

He couldn’t disagree, but at the same time, what other options did they have? Belpheg and Mammon had Aegin. They had to get him back.

“It’ll be okay, sunshine,” he murmured, taking her hand.

She shot him a grateful smile, but just as she began to lean toward him, there was a flash of white in his peripheral.

Ronin.

Jerking his hand back, Dagan turned to see his brother touch down several feet away. Ronin absorbed his full, white wings with a
snap.

When his hawkish gaze raked over the both of them, Dagan knew he’d have to face his brother sooner rather than later. Would have to explain about him and Lina, because not touching her was like not breathing…impossible.

But now wasn’t the time for that. Saving Aegin was the most important thing.

Ronin’s gaze went past them and settled on Brynn. His eyes softened. “I saw nothing out of the ordinary.”

“This is ridiculous. I can’t wait anymore.” Brynn stalked past Ronin, Amara, and the remaining succubi, heading in the direction of the castle.

Taeg rushed across the clearing to close his arms around her waist, pulling her back to him. “No, Brynn. Wait.” When she gave him a wild-eyed glare and tried to break free, he whispered, “I know how much you want him back. We all do. But we need to get everything in place first. Otherwise, you’ll be walking into a death trap. Aegin is going to need his mother.”

His last words penetrated. Slowly the fight left her body, turning her once more into an empty, ragged shell of her former self. Facing Taeg, she allowed him to envelop her in his arms.

“I can’t stand it,” she whispered in a broken voice. “Imagining what they might be doing to him…it’s killing me.”

Taeg’s grief-stricken gaze indicated he felt the same, but all he said in response was, “He’s going to be okay, Brynn. We’re gonna find Aegin. Safe and sound. I promise.”

Angry tears welled in Dagan’s eyes. Knowing that their sadistic father and the dark fae had tiny little Aegin caused a physical ache in his body that he couldn’t quite dispel. If anything happened to his nephew…

As if she sensed his train of thought, Lina whispered, “Your brother’s right, Dagan. He is going to be okay. I won’t accept anything else.”

He gave her a grateful smile. This had to be tough on Lina, too. Although she’d never said it, he could understand how Aegin’s capture might lead her to draw parallels to her loss of her daughter Sara. But she was toughing it out. Being strong. For them. And man, he really appreciated that.

A moment later, Keegan flew through a copse of trees, his leathery dragon-wings swooshing as he landed in the clearing. The rayamara mercenaries they’d hired were hot on his trail.

“Keegan,” Brynn gasped, breaking away from Taeg to run to her shirtless husband.

He threw his arms around her, and his gaze landed on Ronin. “How did it look?”

“Normal,” Ronin murmured. “Quiet. I spotted one of the ishtaris outside the front entrance, but nothing else seemed out of the ordinary.”

“Same here,” Keegan said, his mouth tight with worry. “Ran into the guys on my way back.”

“And we come armed,” said one of the rayamaras.

No shit.

Each of the three men carried a large sack on his back. As they dropped them to the ground, Dagan made out the distinct rattle of bones. Even though the castle grounds itself was bound to be littered with corpses, they hadn’t wanted to take chances on the number of zombies they had to work with, so the rayamaras had gone to a local cemetery to gather as many bodies as each could carry.

“Good,” said Brynn, her eyes going hard at the sight of the sacks. When she pulled from Keegan’s grasp and stalked toward the bags, Maya voiced the question they probably all had in mind.

“Um, how do we know these zombies are going to attack the right people, instead of the first hunk of flesh they see?”

“Because I control them. They follow my commands.” Brynn knelt in front of the sacks and lifted her hands over them. Without further warning, she began to chant in a language Dagan had never heard before. Though he couldn’t understand the words, a shiver of foreboding wound through his body.

The earth began to rumble.

“Oh, shit,” Lina whispered. Her fingers wound through his, and she took a step closer as the sacks began to move and take form. Around them, various mounds of dirt began to kick up, and dirty, crusty objects that could only be bones spilled forth from the ground.

“Whoa.” Dagan gave an appreciative glance around the field. Though he’d witnessed the zombies before when he and his brothers had fought Mammon at the Great Pyramids, it was another thing to see the exact moment of their generation. Now he could understand why so many people were interested in the power Brynn held. It was formidable, to say the least.

“Holy fucking hell.” Looking uncharacteristically shaken, Maya bent to dig out her daggers from her boot as the bones began to piece themselves together, forming skeletal bodies.

Even Tenos appeared rattled. Though he held his ground, he reached for the sword strapped at his back and assumed a battle stance, clearly ready to lay into any zombie that dared to get within striking distance.

As if sensing their smell, the skeletons that had formed from the sacks at Brynn’s feet bypassed her and began to move toward where the rest of them stood.

“Stop,” Brynn ordered, rising to her feet.

The zombies instantly obeyed.

Even though Dagan had seen her do something similar when they fought Mammon, it was still so amazing to behold. Brynn
commanded
an army of the freaking undead.

“They’ll begin to flesh out once they feed,” Brynn said, her tone hard. “Then they’ll become more substantial.”

And also more ripe-smelling, he knew from experience.

“Keegan,” Brynn murmured, her voice almost a whisper. It contained a note of pleading that no one could mistake. She was ready to go. Desperate to save her child.

They all were.

Keegan looked at each of them, his expression containing the words of thanks he couldn’t articulate. He addressed Tenos. “Let’s see if we can bring that barrier down.”

Tenos arched a brow and sheathed his sword. “I’m on it.”

With one final nod, Keegan turned to Brynn. “Come on, baby. Let’s go get our son.”

…

Rage was headed toward the kitchen in search of some household help to snack on when the ground beneath him started to shake.

“What the fuck?” He caught himself on one of the walls, momentarily wondering whether he’d gone on another one of his drug-induced blood-drinking binges without even realizing it. But no, it had been awhile since he’d touched a drug…hadn’t it?

Before he could ponder that too much further, Belpheg came striding down the hall, an expression of ire on his face. “What the devil is going on?”

Somehow, despite the fact the earth was wobbling uncontrollably, Rage managed a nonchalant shrug. “Got me.”

Belpheg shot him a death look.

“Join the others outside.” With those words, he shouldered past him, muttering something about idiots under his breath.

Rage stifled a laugh. Clearly the dark fae didn’t much like him, but who gave a fuck? After getting to know the man better these past few weeks, he could honestly say he felt the same. Belpheg was about as much use to him as Mammon.

Freaking wastes of time, the both of them.

Especially Mammon.

He didn’t know what he had expected. Why had he even bothered to find his father? Maybe some part of him had hoped the man would be halfway decent. But how much could he have expected from a rapist who had abandoned his half-blood offspring, leaving a defenseless newborn in the hands of the psychotic vampire who’d birthed him and her demon-hating relatives?

Rage had grown up knowing only hatred and violence, torture and abuse from the very people who were supposed to protect him. And, ultimately, it was all Mammon’s fault. The fact that he’d even dared to hope for some kindness from the man, for a glimmer of compassion or willingness to pursue a relationship…

Apparently he’d never stop being the fool.

Given Mammon’s past actions, it came as no surprise that the demon had turned in his own grandson to the dark fae like some meaningless bargaining chip. Yet, while Rage had determined not to care, not to get involved, it still brought an ache to his chest when he heard the mewling cry of the baby echo up from a nearby staircase.

From the dungeon.

Dear old daddy had put a tiny infant, his very own blood, in the fucking dungeon.

Just let it be, dude.

But when the pitiful wail sounded out once more, he couldn’t help himself. He headed toward the noise, pausing at the top of the damp stone stairs. The wounded sniffling he heard propelled him downward. He came to an abrupt stop at the foot of the stairs.

“Oh, shit.”

Mammon had carelessly set the infant down on the cold stone ground right at the entrance into the dungeon. Sure, he was lying on a soft blue blanket, but he’d kicked the fabric aside, and now his plump legs pumped helplessly in the air. He wore nothing other than a pale blue shirt and a pair of darker blue pants, and his chubby cheeks were lined with dirt and grime. Sometime between the first wail that had driven Rage down here and now, he’d stuffed one of his fists into his mouth in an apparent effort to calm himself. The sight brought back memories Rage had thought long extinguished.

A frightened little boy, barely old enough to walk, hiding from his mother and her crazed fury. Jamming his fist in his mouth to hold back his terrified sobs. Knowing, even at such a young age, that the person he needed most right now was the one person who hated him more than anything. The one who was going to beat him within an inch of his life once she found him…if she didn’t succeed in killing him altogether this time.

He’d only wanted to get some comfort from her. Even though he knew better, he’d snuck up beside her while she was occupied and tried to hold her hand, but it had set her off. Anything and everything seemed to set her off. But he’d just wanted to touch her, to love her. For just one brief moment.

No, Mommy…no.