Call of the Siren(79)
Her breath caught as fear clogged her throat. Not for her, but for her son. Her poor, defenseless baby, who even now sniveled in a wordless plea for comfort. His body was still as a statue, however.
“Wha-what’s happening?” she slurred.
“You’re all paralyzed from the neck down. Not forever, you see.” He grinned. “Just long enough.”
Jesus, no. She willed her useless arms to move, but nothing happened. She was helpless.
So fucking helpless.
Please, God, please. Don’t let this happen.
With that cold smile still on his face, Mammon began to step over Reiver’s prone form. To her surprise, Reiver let out another groan, and his shaky arm reached out to clasp Mammon’s ankle.
Mammon’s brow rose as his gaze traveled down to the panther-shifter. “Strong one, aren’t you? Belpheg’s charm is supposed to render paralysis for at least ten minutes.”
When Reiver grunted, Mammon tugged his ankle from the shifter’s grip. Without further warning, he slammed his booted foot down on Reiver’s neck. Over and over again.
“No!”
Brynn screamed, unable to look away from the horror of Mammon stomping on Reiver until there was no possibility of him having survived the attack.
Once he was satisfied with his work, Mammon made a show of wiping his gory boot on the rocky floor before stepping over Reiver’s corpse and heading toward her.
No, please no.
Her breath puffed out in audible gasps as Mammon stopped right in front of her then crouched so they were at eye level. Amusement, along with that ever-present hint of madness, glinted in his eyes.
“Surprise.” He let out a soft chuckle. “Didn’t expect that we knew about this place, did you? Or that the fae would be strong enough to find me a way in.”
“Please.” Even knowing it would be useless, she begged for mercy. “Please.”
“I heard the Book of the Dead was destroyed, which means you’re no longer of any use to me.” Mammon reached out a hand and gently ran it along one of her cheeks. “Too bad, dear.”
Aegin let out a pathetic, pleading wail that cut her to the very depths of her core. When Mammon’s gaze went down to him, she screamed once more.
“No! No, please!”
“Now the child on the other hand,” Mammon murmured. He moved his hands down to Aegin, tugging her baby from her helpless grip.
“Please, no! Don’t take him. Don’t take my baby!”
Mammon’s gaze locked in on the baby. “Oh, the child will be very useful indeed.”
A torrent of tears streamed down her eyes, practically blinding her vision as Mammon rose and lifted Aegin up at arm’s length.
Not my baby. Anything but my baby. Please, please!
Gazing at Aegin with his gleaming, crazed eyes, Mammon made a soft, cooing sound that somehow managed to sound utterly terrifying.
“Well hello there, little one. Say hi to grandpa.”
…
For the second time in less than a day, Dagan was awakened by the buzz of his cell phone. He crawled out of bed, taking care not to wake Lina, and staggered out to the living room. It was Taeg again.
He answered with a sleepy, “Hello?”
“Hey, bro.” Taeg’s voice was gruff, like he was exhausted.
No, wait. He didn’t sound tired. More like…like he’d been crying.
Dagan’s stomach constricted. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s…”
When Taeg paused to clear his throat, Dagan’s heart plummeted in his chest. Something was very, very wrong.
“What? What is it?”
“When we got back to the cave…someone had beaten us there.”
“What?” Dagan leaned forward, bracing himself against the windowpane for support against the sudden dizziness that threatened to disarm him. “Shit, man. What happened?”
“Apparently Belpheg already knew the location of our hideout. He sent someone. Mammon.”
Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Brynn, Amara, Aegin. What had happened to them?
“Tell me,” Dagan said hoarsely.
“He had some sort of spell from Belpheg. Blew up Reiver, along with the men he and Bram hired.”
Blew them up?
Oh hell, no.
“What about the rest?” he asked, knowing he probably didn’t want to hear the answer.
“Brynn and Amara were temporarily paralyzed. They’ve recovered already.”
He didn’t fail to notice the missing name.
No. Please, no.
Angry tears welled in Dagan’s eyes, then began to roll down his cheeks like thick streams of water. With his free hand, he reached out and grabbed onto the first thing in sight, a wooden knife block. The wood cracked under the force of his grip. “And Aegin?” he forced himself to ask.