Call of the Siren(104)

His fingers aimed at Amara, and another punishing stream of electricity struck her in the stomach. Like her friend, she shot back a good distance, and her body slammed hard into the ground.

“No!” Ronin dropped his sword and flew toward her.

“You son of a bitch,” Solara screamed, her eyes going wild. A strike of power flew from her, catching Belpheg in the chest.

“Oof.” He clutched his heart and stumbled back…just as Rage rose to his feet and raced toward him, his dagger gripped in his outstretched hand.

The weapon slid into Belpheg’s back.

“Argh!” Belpheg shuddered, his face contorting in pain, and a thin trickle of blood dribbled from his mouth.

Oh shit, he can feel pain. He can bleed.

Which meant he could die.

“Go!” Dagan shouted.

As one, they surged forward, and time seemed to move into hyper speed.

Lina’s dagger connected with Belpheg’s side, just as Dagan’s and Keegan’s swords slid into the flesh of his stomach. At the same time two of Amara’s friends—who’d morphed into disturbing, distorted versions of a panther and a wolf shifter—struck at his torso and upper thigh, drawing back with chunks of flesh.

Belpheg gargled, stumbling backward. He looked down in horror, and for one long moment, Lina feared he would simply slide the weapons out of his body, heal his ragged flesh, and hit them with another super blast of energy.

Instead, he slowly collapsed to his knees.

“You can’t…” He gulped once, his glazed eyes lifting to where they stood as one united front. “No. I cannot die. Not before I exact my revenge. Not yet.”

Lina let out a satisfied snort. “Guess again, asshole.”

Without wasting another moment, she slid her second dagger in a steady arc. Her aim was true, her blade still wicked-sharp. It sliced straight through Belpheg’s neck.

Take that, jack.

With no small amount of satisfaction. Lina stepped back to observe her handiwork. But what she’d expected to see—a rolling head—didn’t happen.

“What the hell?”

She gave Dagan a puzzled glance.

Even though her weapon had gone through the other side, his head remained firmly on his shoulders. Did this guy never die?

The dark fae’s jaw slackened, and his eyes grew wide as saucers, but he continued to blink at them.

She shifted uneasily, her heart pumping as she watched Belpheg with baited breath. Perhaps he was even more powerful than they suspected. Maybe he couldn’t be killed.

“Huh,” Rage said, his eyes sparkling with undisguised curiosity. He stepped behind Belpheg and placed his hand on the dark fae’s shoulder, giving an experimental push.

For one heart-stopping moment, nothing happened. But then, as if slowly coming unglued, his head tilted to the side and fell right off his neck. It dropped to the ground with a sickening thump. His body remained kneeling, however, and his fingers twitched and a steady stream of blood oozed from the headless stump.

“Holy shit,” Dagan gasped. He reached out and blindly clutched her hand. “This fucker can’t even die the normal way.”

Lina squeezed his hand, soaking in the reassurance it gave her. “Do you think he’s really dead?”

Keegan moved toward the head and gave it a kick. It went rolling across the ground before coming to a harmless stop.

“Yup. He’s dead.”

The tightness constricting Lina’s heart eased a fraction. After all that had happened, after all they’d sacrificed, it seemed so hard to believe. But it was over.

They had won.





Chapter Twenty-Seven

Tendrils of light snaked across the nighttime sky, melding with the orange glow of artificial light that blanketed the city. The ever-present noises of traffic filtered up to the massive terrace of Keegan’s apartment. Leaning against the balustrade, Dagan took it all in.

He never thought he’d see this place again. Right now it seemed like heaven, even down to the noxious fumes drifting up from the jam-packed traffic on the streets far below. To be back here was like a dream. And when you added the knowledge that they’d not only defeated the dark fae, but also killed the sadistic father who’d raised them …

It was almost unbelievable.

The essence of Ronin’s aura floated out to brush across Dagan’s skin. Moments later, the glass door leading out to the terrace opened, and he strode out, whiskey glass in hand. Dagan stiffened, and turned to his older brother. Despite everything that had gone down tonight, there was still unfinished business between them. A lot left to be said.

“How’s Amara doing?” he asked.

“Fine,” Ronin said. “Still a little shaken, but doing well. She’s in Brynn’s room with her, Lina, and Maya.”