The Eldritch Conspiracy (Blood Singer #5)

The Eldritch Conspiracy (Blood Singer #5) Page 5

“So you sent him away.”

I tried not to put any particular emotion in my words, but my feelings probably showed in my mind. I don’t like that the sirens have historically considered men nothing more than tools of procreation. Their female-centric culture throws away male partners and male children like so much trash.

Laka’s chin came up, her expression conveying pride, stubbornness, and hurt. It was an old wound, but I could tell from her expression that it still ached. “I did. I let him take our son, but I kept Okalani away from him.”

I thought back, remembering what she’d said to me the first night I’d met her, the night Okalani had teleported herself onto my friend Bubba’s boat. I’d nearly killed the youngster, thinking she was an enemy intruder.

“You told me before that he was bitter about being sent away?” I made it a question.

She sighed. “Yes. He was … is. It makes no sense to me. He hated me for making him law-abiding, but he hated it even more when I rejected him.”

“And you think he’ll take it out on your daughter by rejecting her?”

She shook her head and her expression grew hard and grim. “Oh, no. He won’t reject her. He’ll use her.”

The way she said that … an image appeared in my mind. A darkened building, figures in black, and a floor-to-ceiling vault door. Whether it was my own vision or projected into my head by Laka, I suddenly understood why she was so panicked.

“You think he would use Okalani’s gift to steal things?”

Her jaw tightened, like it wasn’t something she wanted said out loud. But I’m like that. If it can’t be said out loud, it shouldn’t be thought. “I would rather not think he is capable of outright theft.”

A moment’s thought provided all too many ways Okalani could be of terrific use to a con man and thief—the possibilities were endless. A simple variation of the old shell game, where instead of being palmed and moved, the ball would simply disappear into Okalani’s hand while she stood several feet away. An apartment full of priceless antiques one minute, the next … empty, the thief chatting with the owner throughout the robbery. A murder suspect seemingly in two places at once, with witnesses in both places. I hid all that in my mind as best I could, and erected what few barriers I knew to keep Laka out. She didn’t need to know how dark my thoughts were.

The siren looked beseechingly at me. “Please, Princess … please help me find my daughter.”

Scooting back my chair, I opened my center desk drawer and pulled out a leather case that held alphabetized business cards. Flipping to “P,” I selected one from the mix of private investigators and handed it across the desk. “Call Harry Carson. He’s one of the best I know. I’ll do some looking around and I’ll talk to Okalani if I find her, but he’ll find her if I can’t.”

She took the card and stared at it with relief plain on her face. Dark eyes filled with gratitude raised to meet mine. “Thank you, Princess. If there’s anything I can ever do—”

I flinched involuntarily for at least the third time since she arrived. “Actually, there is.” I rose and stepped around the desk.

She raised her eyebrows and cocked her head as I walked past her to the door, turned the knob, and opened it. My meaning was obvious; Laka stood and headed for the exit, pausing when we were inches apart to repeat, “Anything.”

I sighed and looked at her wearily. “Stop calling me Princess.”

3

It was my morning for siren trouble. After Laka left, I started sorting through my messages, trying to put them in order of priority. The most important, and worrisome, were the multiple messages from Lopaka and her daughter Adriana. I knew Adriana was in the process of planning her weddings, plural, to King Dahlmar of Rusland. Other than sending an RSVP—regrets for the daylight ceremony on Serenity, because of my vampish skin problems; a big yes to the church ceremony in Rusland because I’ve always wanted to see Europe—I had no connection to the wedding. Since Adriana and I aren’t close, that was no surprise.

Still, they were calling. Eight or ten times each. That meant there was a crisis of some sort. Crap. I so didn’t want to deal with whatever it was. I wanted to ease back into my life, try to make some decisions about my future when I wasn’t caught up in the crisis of the moment. But there you go. I picked up the phone and dialed the number Hiwahiwa, the queen’s assistant, had left, and got her assistant, who told me that the queen was unavailable, but would call me back at her convenience.

So I hung up and dialed Adriana.

Now my great-aunt and I get along well, despite the fact that she’s royal, and I’m an American and pretty irreverent besides. But Adriana? That’s a whole ’nother story. The princess can be very … princessy. A diva’s diva. She has a crown and an attitude, and definitely knows how to use both. On top of that she was busy getting ready for the impending nuptials, so I figured I’d get shunted off to an even longer line of assistants. Instead, she answered herself and on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“This is Celia Graves—”

She interrupted me before I could finish. “Celia, thank God! Tell me you’re back from Mexico.” She spoke in a rush, her voice breathless. At a guess I’d have said she was desperate, but that was so out of character as to be completely unbelievable.

“I’m back.”

“Oh good.” The relief in her voice was palpable. What the hell was going on? “How soon can you make it down to the docks? We need to talk.”

I glanced at the wall clock. Not even ten thirty, my first day back, and I was already hip deep in crises. Not a record for me, but close. “Give me an hour.”

I grabbed my Bluetooth earpiece and headed for my car. I might as well make a couple of calls on the way. I had to leave a message on Bruno’s voice mail, but got hold of Emma. A clairvoyant, she wasn’t exactly surprised that I’d made it back, but she did sound hugely relieved. She didn’t admit it, but I was guessing she’d “peeked” in the mirror she sometimes used as a focus. If she’d been watching me in Mexico, she’d probably gotten quite the eyeful.

We didn’t chat long. She had a class to teach and traffic was getting heavy enough that I needed to concentrate on my driving.

Despite the traffic, I made it to the marina with time to spare. I knew my way around from back when a good friend kept his fishing boat here, so it was easy to find Adriana’s slip. Actually, it would have been easy for anyone who knew anything about sirens—all you had to do was follow the gulls. They led the way, soaring and swooping and cawing with excitement, to the nicest yacht in the place.

Calling Adriana’s vessel a boat was like calling the Hope Diamond a pretty rock. Her ship was freaking huge, with hand-carved teak and brass fittings. The stairway was steep. Not a gangplank—actual stairs. Everything was elegant and perfect, very much like Adriana herself.

Though I had to admit she wasn’t entirely perfect. As Queen Lopaka’s only daughter, Adriana should have been heir to the throne. Unfortunately, she wasn’t siren enough, because like Emma Landingham, she was a clairvoyant. “True” siren talent can’t coexist with any other paranormal or magical abilities, so she would never take her mother’s throne. Worse, she probably had already seen in a vision just who would.

Fate can be so cruel.

She would never rule the Isle of Serenity, but Adriana was every inch a princess. It’s all about the attitude. Today she was wearing big movie-star sunglasses, a man’s dress shirt in white, blue jeans, and boat shoes. On her, it all looked like the height of fashion. Her long red hair had been tied back in a loose tail that did not distract from the amazing bone structure of her face. She was stunning. On my best day I don’t look that good. That bothers me more than it probably should.

Adriana met me at the gangplank and invited me on board.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice.” She smiled, and dolphins began jumping and playing in the water next to the boat. Overhead, my seagull escort wheeled and cawed happily before settling down on various high spots to watch.

Ever the gracious hostess, Adriana led me to a pair of built-in benches around a small table near the entrance to the cabin area. “Would you like something to drink?” She signaled and a servant instantly appeared from somewhere. “We’ll have brunch now.”

“Of course, Princess.” He bowed low, backing away.

She sat and drummed her manicured fingers restlessly on the tabletop.

I waited for a little bit, letting her squirm. But I’m not really all that patient, and at the rate she was going, it would be next week before she got past the pleasantries. “Why don’t you just spit it out?”

“Excuse me?” She blinked, obviously shocked.

I smiled. I didn’t get an advantage over her often. She’s been trained to be poised in almost any situation. But it was obvious she needed something and just as obvious that she was not used to having to ask. I realized that it was highly likely that people had been anticipating her needs and whims since she’d been old enough to walk, maybe before. That explained a lot. If that was the case, she really wasn’t nearly as annoying as she could have been.

“You brought me here for a reason, and there are no assistants around, so you must need to speak with me alone. Just say whatever it is you need to say. You won’t offend me. I promise.” I smiled again to take any sting out of the words.

She laughed. “Don’t be so sure. I seem to recall the first time we met, our conversation didn’t go well at all.”

She was right, of course. I’d accused her of being unpardonably rude and she had challenged me to a duel to the death. Then again, she’d disrupted my best friend’s wake to sing a torch song. “No,” I admitted, “but we’ve come a long way since then.” I didn’t exactly like Adriana, but I’d seen enough of her that I’d grown to respect and admire her. I think she felt the same about me.