Demon Song (Blood Singer #3)

Demon Song (Blood Singer #3) Page 45

Dr. Sloan hadn’t noticed our little song and dance, but the two women did. Dawna was looking amused and I’ll bet she couldn’t wait until she had me alone and could grill me about every minute detail. But Dr. Sloan’s voice pulled my eyes away from her, back to the shell in his hand: “I see your point about the reason and scope of the spell. But we really need to test the king conch—see if you can also make it sound. We need to go out to the beach.” He stood and proceeded to do just that, a horn in each hand. I shrugged and motioned that we might as well go with him. I didn’t want anyone or anything to swoop down and take them away.

Twenty minutes later, we were no closer to an answer than when we’d started. No, I couldn’t blow the king conch. Nor could anyone else. The triton sounded only for me and with the barest of breath.

Once they started doing testing circles on the shells alone, I relegated myself to the shadow of the biggest palm I could find, because the sun was getting low on the horizon and was becoming painful to be out in it. I needed another liberal application of sunscreen—which I didn’t have handy. I’d apparently left the bottle I’d used in the hotel back there somewhere, because I couldn’t find it in the SUV. There was another bottle in my luggage, but we’d packed in such a rush that I had no idea where it might be.

I also needed another shake even though it hadn’t been four hours yet. The people on the beach were starting to glow and pulse, and it wasn’t helping that there was magic flying all over the place.

As I sat hunched in a tiny pool of darkness, it occurred to me that for too long I’d been letting situations rule me. The break I’d sought at the spa hadn’t turned out to be what I’d hoped for. Well … certain parts of my body had gotten nicely relaxed. I supposed it was good to find out everything down there still worked after the bat bite—before I started doing any serious dating again.

But there were too many disconnects between body, mind, and spirit. And I knew just the cure. Fortunately, there was just enough room in shade, if I sat right next to the tree trunk, to assume a lotus position. I’d done yoga for years, but lately, with all the things that had been happening, I hadn’t stolen back the time it takes. Now, with everyone otherwise occupied, I figured I had at least ten minutes of good, solid meditation time available.

I took a deep, centering breath and crossed my legs. My thighs reminded me I hadn’t done this in some time. Ow. But getting past the pain is part of the process, so I cupped my fingers and rested them on my knees. Closing my eyes made the world disappear, and soon the only sounds I could hear were the crashing of the waves, the calling of the gulls, and the wind in the palm fronds overhead. I imagined the water around me and soon I was floating on the waves, letting the ocean take me where it would.

I’d taken a dozen slow breaths when I heard Bruno’s voice near my ear: “Celie? Hon? Um … not to interrupt, but we sort of need the beach back.”

I blinked my eyes and tried to focus on his face. The waves sounded louder and I felt sort of … damp. I looked down to find that the tide had come in … but farther inland than I’d ever seen it. Water was lapping around the tree’s shadow but not actually touching me. Seriously weird. I looked up and there were at least a dozen gulls perched in the tree overhead, staring down at me with curious black eyes.

What the hell? “What’s happening?”

Bruno shrugged. “Your cousin said it’s your doing, but I have no idea how to fix it.”

I raised a hand and motioned toward said cousin, inviting her over. Adriana gave an exaggerated sigh and splashed her way toward me, pants rolled to her knees and tan boat shoes in her hands. She started speaking before I could ask the question: “The water responds to you as it does to the other sirens. It seeks you out when you call—as it did when sirens of old would call the ocean onto the rocks to wreck ships and strand sailors. Unfortunately, I don’t have the ability to send it back. I don’t know if this will help, but Mother simply motions it back like a puppy who’s strayed from the yard.”

A puppy. The ocean is not a puppy. Still, who was I to argue? I made shooing motions with the backs of my hands. “Go on. Get back in the yard.”

Bruno laughed and I shook my head with bemusement for thinking it would work. At first, I thought I was imagining it. But damned if the waves didn’t start to lap farther from the tree with each inward flow. Maybe it would work with the gulls, too. I looked up and made the same motions. “Go on. Shoo. Go find some fish to eat.”

With flaps of massive wings, the birds took to the air and soared into the distance. “Oh. Wow.” I looked up at Adriana. “I probably need to tell the queen about this, huh?”

She tipped her head with wide eyes and nodded. “I would. You need training to control what appear to be growing abilities. They’re completely natural to our kind but can be a nuisance when the waters come at unexpected moments.” She gave me a significant look before turning and walking back along the sodden beach to where the others were waiting.

Yeah. Unexpected would be bad. I needed to make sure that in future meditations I visualized grass or wildflowers. Or maybe flatland prairie or a nice sandy desert.

Anything but water. I wouldn’t want to find the waves scratching at my front door because I’d finally relaxed into a true meditation. The door’s on the second floor. My car is on the first.

“Maybe this is a hint it’s time to wrap things up for today. I need to fee—eat, and I think all of us need some rest. Tomorrow’s going to come too quick already.”

Bruno nodded. “John and I will set up temporary barriers for the horns—one for each, so they don’t touch or … go off.”

I took a deep breath. “Thank you for being willing to work with him. It’s not really what it looks like between us.”

Bruno sighed and there was pain in those brown eyes that I would erase if I could. “Yes. It is. It’s exactly what it looks like. But he reminded me rather strongly that I was the one who threw you away and that I didn’t have any right to blame him for catching you.” He shook his head in frustration. “I just wished he wasn’t so damned talented. It would be easier to hate him if I didn’t respect him so much.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. We looked at each other, feeling lost. I took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Creede’s been very kind and I can’t deny he’s awfully hard to resist. But we haven’t gone to where you and I have. If that helps any.”

His smile and chuckle weren’t up to his normal standards. “A little. But I can’t ignore how you look at each other and I honestly can’t say he wouldn’t be better for you. I’ve got … a lot of thinking to do.” He raised my hand to his lips and gave it a gentle kiss. “I do love you, Celie. You know that.”

My laugh was a little teary around the edges. “You did last time, too. And the time before.”

He nodded and tucked my arm under his as we walked back across the beach. John stood watching, leaning on the Mustang with arms crossed.

I had the feeling it was going to be a long, restless night for both of us.

Maybe for all three of us.

20

Night turned to morning and I watched every freaking second unfold. My brain had run at full tilt the whole night. I even tried sleeping medicine. Note to self: Drugs that should be taken with food, even if crushed and dissolved in a shake, don’t sit well when there’s only liquid in your stomach. No matter how nutritious the liquid is. The medication insisted on coming back out the way it had gone in, and then I had to drink another shake after scrubbing the taste of bile from my tongue.

But even the unmistakable sounds of vomiting didn’t wake Adriana. I’d offered her a room after we’d stayed up late reading library books. She’d stayed because she hadn’t wanted to incur a mother’s wrath by calling Okalani to transport her past curfew. After meeting the girl’s mother, I didn’t blame my cousin.

I yawned loudly around the house until a second cup of coffee finally got me to a semblance of alertness. I’d discovered that pouring one of the chocolate shakes into the coffee adds the sugar and cream I like, plus a little chocolaty goodness. Strolling down the hall with cup in hand, I rapped on Adriana’s bedroom door for the third time. “C’mon, Adriana. Daylight’s burning. We need to get moving.” I still had to return the rental car. She was going to follow me in my car and then we were going to take back the books we’d finished and see if there were any Dawna had missed.

I’d learned during our late-night reading session that Adriana had been asked to meet with my friend Bubba and find him a new boat. Of course, that was before the rift appeared, but Adriana was a “duty first” sort of person, so I was betting she’d try to fit it in.

Adriana didn’t respond to my knock, but there were … noises behind the door. Either she’d snuck someone into the room and was having really intense sex or something was very, very wrong. I tried the knob, but the door was locked.

Damn it. I really hated the thought of kicking down one of my own doors, but it wasn’t the kind of lock set that used a key.

Sigh.

I put the coffee cup on the floor, far enough from the door that it might not spill during a fight, and put my shoulder to the door. Maybe I could pop the lock without tearing off the whole doorjamb. Supernatural strength is occasionally a good thing. The wood was solid against me and I pushed in tiny increments, feeling the door bow under the pressure. They’re solid-core doors—Vicki built the guesthouse to withstand a Category Three hurricane—so I didn’t have to worry about a thin layer of veneer cracking. By pushing in the exact center, I was hoping the hardware would give way first.

It did.

It was a good thing I had one hand braced on the wall or when the door yielded I would have landed on the floor. There were no intruders or secret lovers in the room, but I ran in because Adriana was on the floor, tangled in bedsheets and thrashing. Her eyes were rolled back in her head and she was making odd grunts and hand motions. I’d seen the same thing before more than once … with Vicki. Okalani’s mother had told me that Adriana was a prophet, the sirens’ term for a clairvoyant. It was one reason she would never be queen. She was apparently a pretty powerful one, too.