There was a muffled scream and the sharp scent of chemicals and the temperature dropped like a rock. Ivy was here. Gran was in danger and my baby sister’s ghost was here to help if she could. I pushed past Baker, but before I’d gone down more than two steps I heard the sounds of a brief struggle, then silence, except for the ambient noise of the building and harsh breathing.
“It’s over.” Griffiths’s voice was calm and his breathing was steady. Apparently he’d been able to subdue the attacker without so much as breaking a sweat. Then again, he’s a big guy. A big, tough, well-trained guy. When I reached the ground floor, I saw that he had bound the bad guy with spelled cuffs and was using his ever-trusty cell phone to dial for an ambulance and backup. My grandmother was lying at his feet.
I was kneeling next to my gran’s unconscious body before the second word had left Griffiths’s mouth. I pulled her against me, getting her off of that nasty, disgusting floor. The chill of Ivy’s presence settled around me as I held Gran close and checked her for injuries. Her breathing was steady. Her heartbeat was slowing back to normal. She was going to be all right. I sent up a silent prayer of thanks and twisted to look at her attacker.
“You!” he snarled, then spat at me. The wad of saliva missed my face, thanks to my excellent reflexes. The phlegm left a trail of slime as it slid down the wall behind me.
Only the fact that I had my grandmother in my arms kept me from lunging at the bastard and choking the snot out of him for what he’d done to her. Staring across at him, I realized that he looked familiar, but only vaguely, like someone I’d met once, briefly. Then again, maybe he just had one of those faces. Average height, dark blond hair, and ordinary features; built like he worked out, but not excessively. He wore ordinary jeans and a plain red T-shirt. The only thing out of the ordinary about him was the mark on his forearm—a tattoo in the shape of an elaborate, colorful cross in vivid green, red, and gold. I felt the magic from that mark and realized the tattoo was camouflage. He’d taken a binding oath.
I found myself snarling, rage coloring every syllable I uttered. “What did you swear, and who did you swear it to? Why were you trying to kidnap my grandmother?”
His eyes blazed with pure hatred. If looks could kill, I’d be dead in my boots. But they couldn’t, and glaring was all he could do, bound as he was by both handcuffs and magic.
“I will tell you nothing, siren witch.”
“Oh, you’ll talk.” Griffiths’s smile was absolutely chilling. “You’ll tell us everything we want to know.”
If the man on the ground had any sense, he’d be terrified. Because he was dealing with sirens. When push comes to shove, they can use their magic to make a man do almost anything without hesitation. I, myself, had used my talent to save my life and that of my friends. The result still haunted my nightmares.
Why did he look so familiar? Damn it. I would swear I’d never met the guy, and yet— Nope. I couldn’t remember, and the harder I chased the thought, the more elusive it became.
I was still trying to remember when the EMTs arrived a few minutes later.
“I’m going with the ambulance.” It wasn’t a question. He’d have to bind me tighter than he had the prisoner if he wanted to stop me.
Baker turned to Griffiths. “Go with the prisoner. I’ll see to Ms. Peahi. When she’s stable, I’ll bring the princess to headquarters. She can help with the questioning.”
I watched as the EMTs gently placed my unconscious grandmother on the gurney. The man on the ground had attacked a helpless little old woman, would have done God alone knew what to her before he was done. Hell, yes, I’d help with the questioning.
I was looking forward to it.
Even in an ambulance, the drive to the hospital took awhile. The streets were just that crowded. Less than twenty-four hours remained before the ceremonies on Serenity were to take place, and excitement was building to a fever pitch.
My grandmother began stirring after a few minutes and soon she was asking what had happened and complaining that she was fine.
She didn’t remember a thing after waking up that morning.
On the one hand, that was a relief. She’d been so terrified, it was a mercy for her not to have to remember.
On the other hand, she’d make a lousy witness when it came to trial. And I was more than a little worried by the amnesia. The chemical on the rag was simple chloroform; it shouldn’t have caused memory problems.
I wanted to ask the EMTs, but I didn’t want to alarm Gran. I concentrated hard and sent my question directly into the thoughts of the woman taking my grandmother’s vital signs.
She glanced at me before returning her attention to the gauge on the blood pressure cuff. We’re wondering about her memory as well. It might be the bump on her head, but security took a sample of the cloth he held to her mouth to see if there’s a curse involved, and we’ve swabbed her mouth and nasal passages. I’m sure the doctors will run more tests, but I’m betting there’s magic involved. Try not to worry. She’s old but she’s stronger than she looks. Barring complications, I think she’s going to be fine.
I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding. Thank God.
How are you? Any bloodlust?
When I thought about it, I was a little surprised that I didn’t feel any, considering the stress I was under. It would be really sad to think that this level of stress was my new normal. No. But I should probably eat something, sooner rather than later. Is there a cafeteria at the hospital?
Can you eat solids? Her mental voice managed to sound surprised.
Not really. Baby food, mostly, and stuff run through a blender. Broth or soup will do. I drink nutrition shakes in a pinch.
Then you should be able to get something. But take care of it quick. We don’t want there to be any problems at the hospital.
No. We don’t.
I silently relayed our conversation to Baker, who had pulled out her cell phone and begun sending text messages. She tilted the phone to show me that she was sending more security agents to the hospital. One of them met us as we arrived and handed me a nutrition shake and some broth. Not exactly high-class dining, but it was good enough to keep the monster at bay while we got Gran through the check-in process and into a private room.
The whole time, Gran alternated between insisting that she was fine and worrying aloud about the cost of hospitalization. Eventually they gave her something to help her calm down and rest—or maybe just to get her to shut up. When she was sleeping, deeply and peacefully, I sat beside her for a while, studying her. She looked fragile, old, and tired. Lines of care that hadn’t been there six months ago had etched deep creases between her brows and at the corners of her mouth.
Oh, Gran, why didn’t you tell me? I’d have helped. You know I would have.
Queen Lopaka’s mental voice intruded on my thoughts, cold and imperious. That is good to know. I was appalled when Helen advised me of your grandmother’s situation. I wondered how you could let my brother’s widow sink to such depths. It seemed like atypical behavior for you.
I sighed both physically and mentally as tears filled my eyes. We had a falling-out when I refused to keep dealing with my mother. The last I knew, Gran had banked the money from the house sale and was living in a nice assisted-living place on the mainland. I knew she was visiting Mom once a month. I’d hoped …