Call of the Siren(7)

“Why?” she asked.

Sam shrugged and, before she could move, rushed straight at her. Lina caught a flash of silver an instant before a searing-hot bolt of agony speared her in the side. She groaned at the pain and dropped one of her daggers, placing her freed hand on Sam’s chest for balance. Regret and some other sad emotion shimmered in his eyes as he jerked his dagger out of her side. When she yelled out in pain, he repeated, “Sorry,” and lifted the dagger to her neck.

Lina stared at Sam through watery eyes. She couldn’t believe she’d allowed him to best her. After all these years of learning how to fight, how to kick ass, she’d gone and fucked up big time. Her only defense was that his betrayal had surprised her. And now she would pay for that with her life.

Funny, after all these years of secretly wishing for death, for an end to the never-ending sorrow deep inside her heart, now that the moment was here, she found she wanted to live.

Wouldn’t you know?

Sam read the look in her eyes and shook his head. “I’m not here to kill you.”

“Then what—”

A loud roar cut off the rest of her sentence. A figure collided with Sam, knocking him to the side and his dagger safely away from Lina. Without the support of Sam’s body, she crumpled to the floor in a kneeling position.

She looked up to see Dagan shoving Sam to the ground and wresting the dagger from his hand. He held it to Sam’s neck.

“No,” Sam pleaded.

Dagan growled, his arm shaking with the effort of keeping the dagger at Sam’s throat without slicing it into him as he so clearly longed to do. A thin line of blood spread on Sam’s neck where the dagger pressed into his flesh.

“You okay, Lina?” Dagan asked without taking his eyes off Sam.

Lina surveyed her surroundings. The men Sam had used to attack them with all lay on the ground, blood flowing from their beaten bodies. When she realized she hadn’t been breathing, she took a big gasp of air, then whimpered at the agony it sparked in her side. Why the hell hadn’t she healed herself yet?

She placed her hand on the oozing wound and activated her healing ability. A warm rush of golden light spread from her core up to her chest, then flowed down her arm and into her fingertips. Her side tingled in residual pain as the wound repaired itself in a matter of seconds. Thank goodness for her angel heritage. Otherwise she might be in some deep shit right now.

“Lina?” Dagan said through gritted teeth.

“I’m good,” she said, just as Dagan glanced back at her.

Freed from Dagan’s piercing gaze, Sam dug a hand into his pocket and pulled out an electric blue, gelatinous orb about the size of a golf ball.

Lina scrambled to her feet. “Watch out!”

Dagan turned back to Sam, but not quickly enough to stop him from squishing the ball in his fist. A ray of blue energy filled the club, crackling the air and momentarily blinding Lina. Her hair raised on end.

“What the fuck?” Dagan gargled.

When Lina blinked, the world settled back into view. She sought out Dagan, and saw the reason for his muttered curse. The spot where Sam had just lain was now empty, and Dagan straddled nothing but air.

His confused gaze met hers. “Where did he go?”





Chapter Three

This night had so not turned out how Dagan anticipated. First, a surprise attack from Lina’s contact. Then the guy up and disappeared. Like poof, into thin air. Dagan and Lina searched the club and surrounding area for him, but Sam was nowhere to be found.

Takes some serious magical mojo to pull off an escape like that.

After smoothing things over with the club’s owner, who was understandably pissed about the damage done to the place, he rejoined Lina by the bar. She sat on one of the stools, drinking down a beer that Crull had served her. To the naked eye she looked calm as could be. But he didn’t miss the tension in her shoulders, or the tight set of her jaw. Lina was rattled, and who could blame her? Sam had been a trusted associate, and he’d stabbed a knife into her like their relationship had meant nothing.

“How’s the side?” he asked once he’d come to a stop beside her.

“Fine.” She took another guzzle of her beer. “You get things squared away with the owner?”

“He’s good.” Dagan placed his hand beneath her chin and turned her face toward his so he could examine the bruise on her left cheek.

The dangerous glint in her eyes told him she didn’t appreciate his man-handling, but when she spoke all she said was, “I’ve already healed it. The bruise should fade in a couple of hours.”

He fought back a wince. For the bruise to be so visible even after she’d healed herself, her cheekbone must have been shattered. He knew firsthand how painful that was. But if Lina had proved anything in the time he’d known her, it was that she was one tough woman.