Page 35 of The Seer

“If ya let her go now, you’ve my word I’ll bring ya that cursed necklace,” he growled. “On me life.”

Odessa nodded, smiling with satisfaction. “That’s good enough for me and the ancestors since you swore to it.”

The cage containing Narissa disintegrated in a shower of sparks, and she curled into a ball to avoid getting burned. Fintan swore and dove forward to protect her as best he could. Behind him, Odessa’s evil chuckle scraped his last nerve raw, triggering his Siren.

Narissa must’ve sensed the change and grabbed his shirtfront. “Don’t! Don’t you dare shift, Fintan Sullivan!” she ordered. “She won’t be able to resist stealing what you have.”

“She can’t,” he replied through gritted teeth. While he understood the wisdom of Narissa’s words, his Siren was awakening. Taryn had nudged it earlier, and the situation with his cousin had amplified its need to escape. “She has to take it through sex, and I find her repellant.”

“She has other ways, sugar. Remember the spell she cast on Brenna?”

He did.

Inside him, the beast roared its rage, beating the shit out of Fintan’s insides as he struggled to retain control.

Narissa stroked his throat. “Finny, listen to me now.” Her words were sing-song and hypnotic. “She has no power over our Sirens and isn’t worth the cost to transform. Let’s go home.”

His skin cooled along with his temper, and the creature grumbled as it slunk back into its cave.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“Anytime, sugar.”

Fintan helped her to stand, and when they faced Odessa, she wore an expression of concern. Not buying a second of it, he shifted to place himself between the women and then guided Narissa toward the exit. “I’ll be back with your feckin’ jewelry, but if you come after us or anyone we care about again, I’ll fuckin’ end you, yeah?”

Although she frowned, his aunt lifted her chin, proud and defiant to the bitter end. “I’ll not come after you or her, and you’ll need to be satisfied with my word.”

“Not good enough,” Narissa said, swaying into him but pausing their escape. “Brenna, the Guardians, the Aether, and anyone else we care about are untouchable, or you’ll face the combined force of whoever is left of our family. Got it?”

“You’re no match for me, girl. None of you are in your sorry states.”

“The instant you step away from these ley lines, you’re power ends, old woman,” Fintan said. “Necklace or no, you can’t defeat us in battle, so don’t be startin’ a war.”

* * *

“They should’ve been backby now,” Taryn said as she paced behind the sofa that tried to take her out earlier. Her blood had long since been cleaned from the wood, courtesy of Damian and Jordan, but she would prefer to burn the piece for good measure. Or perhaps it was her frustration welling. She needed an outlet.

“Stay calm, sweetheart,” Creed said. Across the room, he sat at the piano, thumbing through a songbook. Periodically, he’d tickle the keys and grin before skimming more pages.

“How can you say that? Why aren’t you worried?”

When he glanced up, his smile was reassuring. “I’ve known Fin since we were teens, Taryn. He’s never gotten himself into a mess he couldn’t get out of.” Creed winked. “With one exception.”

“Which was?”

“You.”

“One, I don’t like to be considered a mess. I mean, I am, but pointing it out might get you cut. And two, you’re imagining things. Fintan and I were done over two decades ago.”

Creed scoffed. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

She chose to ignore his teasing. Paused beside him, she listened as he played, curious about the current song he was drawing from the ivories.

“That’s beautiful!”

“Fin is an exceptional songwriter,” he replied, patting the bench. “Here. Now, sing.”

“I’m not any good,” she protested.

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