Call of the Siren(35)

He still couldn’t believe his oldest brother had built a hideaway without even telling him. But even though part of him was pissed at Keegan’s deviousness, he understood why. Keegan had thought Ronin would feel responsible.

He was right.

If it hadn’t been for Ronin, if he hadn’t fallen for Amara and insisted on freeing her from Asmodeus’ clutches, they would never have killed him against the Council’s orders.

They wouldn’t be about to go on the run.

Ronin let out a deep breath and dropped himself onto the couch. All of this was his fault. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to be sorry about it, not when the end result had been securing Amara’s freedom. He did, however, feel badly for the pain he’d caused his family. They’d settled into this world—this city—so well. And now, because of him, they would be torn from it.

And I’m so very sorry.

His heart heavy, he snatched his cell phone out of his pocket. With everything that had happened, he truly regretted his fight with Dagan. Amara was right—he had to trust that his brother would respect his wishes. Last night he’d said things to Dagan that were totally uncalled for, had hit him with low blows just to make his point.

He’d been a total dick.

Once he found Dagan, he would apologize. And then he would have to explain to his little brother that the world he’d come to love so well was about to change.

He opened his laptop, which lay on the coffee table, and activated the tracking software that linked to Dagan’s cell phone. The address popped up. It was so familiar. Wait, it was…

Lina’s apartment building.

“Motherfucker!”

He rose and stalked toward the door, not even realizing that he’d yelled the word until Amara came running from their bedroom.

“What’s wrong?”

He couldn’t even say the words. Wouldn’t. Amara would only try to hold him back.

“I’m going to go get Dagan.”

And then I’m going to kill him.

…

Sunlight filtered in through a window somewhere, waking Dagan from his booze-induced slumber. He knew he wasn’t at home, because he kept the shades in his bedroom drawn tight since half the time he didn’t even go to sleep until the sun had come up. So then, where was he?

Generally, it meant bad things when he couldn’t remember.

With some trepidation, he opened his eyes. Much to his surprise, he wasn’t in an unfamiliar bedroom with a nude stranger lying beside him. Rather, he lay on a brown microfiber couch in a tiny living room. Instead of being naked, he wore the same T-shirt from last night and his boxer shorts. His discarded jeans lay on the floor right next to him.

How unusual.

His gaze settled on the flat screen television directly across from the couch, and then on the guitar leaning against the wall next to it. Next to that was a bookshelf holding a variety of paperbacks.

He was at Lina’s place.

And last night they’d shared a kiss that had shaken the very core of his existence.

He tensed, waiting for the normal feeling of regret to take over, but it never came. Instead, the recollection of Lina’s warm honeyed taste set off flutters of excitement deep in the pit of his stomach. The touch of her silken skin and the taste of her honeyed lips had practically undone him. She was perfection, pure and simple.

Even if she didn’t know it.

His heart skipped a beat before settling into a rapid thump. He hadn’t felt excited like this since…well, ever.

Practically Dagan knew he should be kicking himself right about now. Ronin would view what had happened between him and Lina last night as a betrayal of the deepest sort. But he couldn’t see it that way. Lina was nothing like the women he’d been with before. Not even close. And call him corny, but she made him want to be a better man.

Yeah, totally cheesy. But true nonetheless.

So what was he going to do about Ronin? How could he make him understand?

When he realized the direction of his thoughts, he let out a soft snort. First he’d have to convince Lina he was interested in her, and for more than her admittedly smoking body. Truth was, he didn’t know if she would believe him.

Even if she did, would she be willing to take a gamble on him?

Instinctively, he knew he didn’t stand a real chance with her if she couldn’t bring herself to open up to him. Share her past. He needed to earn her trust before he had any hope of touching her heart.

The strings of the guitar across the room beckoned to him, calling for a melody. So he gave into the one true desire he rarely indulged in. He rose and picked up the guitar, then brought it back to the couch. Strumming the strings, he gave into the seductive lure of the song that longed to escape his heart.