A Symphony of Sirens (Spellsinger Book 2) Read online

  “The sirens.” I narrowed my eyes on him. “Why?”

  “A friend of mine, also a siren, has recently gone missing,” he said. “Are there more sirens missing?”

  “Yes, several of them.” I leaned toward Thor. “What's your friend's name?”

  “Fatima.”

  “You're friends with my Aunt Fatty?”

  I was shocked, mainly because Fatima didn't like gods. She was one of the sirens who had birthed a spellsinger –my Aunt Daphne– and we teased Fatima often about the impossibility of her ever having a siren daughter. There was no way in all the hells that Fatima would ever have sex with a god.

  “You call her 'Fatty'?” Thor was horrified.

  “Yeah, and my father calls me an elephant,” I huffed. “It's affection; shows you care.”

  “Fucking Greeks.” Thor shook his head.

  “Never mind that,” I refocused our conversation. “Do you know anything about the disappearances?”

  “Not yet”–Thor cast a look at Cerberus–“I was on my way to see Freya, with the intention of asking her to get her cats to look into it for me.”

  “That's also why we're in Vegas,” Torin added, “Perhaps we could join you?”

  “To see Freya?” Thor lifted his brows. “Not with him in tow.” He jerked a thumb at Cerberus. “That won't go over well with her. You know she hates him, right?”

  “She doesn't hate me,” Cer growled.

  “Yes, she does.” Thor grinned.

  “Fuck you, you lying loudmouth!”

  “Cerberus,” I snapped, “this is important.”

  “Fuck,” Cerberus huffed.

  “Perhaps you could check us into our accommodations while we speak with Freya?” Torin suggested to Cerberus.

  Cerberus stared Thor down, and Thor stared back in obvious challenge. Cerberus never turned down a fight; it simply wasn't in his DNA. So, I knew how hard it was for Cerberus to give me a nod and go into the hotel without us . . . and I will love him forever for it.

  “Wow, you've got the mutt trained,” Thor observed.

  “Let me make something clear to you,” I said in a deceptively friendly tone. “I appreciate that you're friends with my man here, and I also appreciate you allowing us to join you on your visit to see Freya, but if you say another negative word about Cerberus Skylos, I will sing you to your doom, Thor. Are we clear?”

  “As the lake in Asgard.” Thor's smile looked wicked. “I like a woman with sass.”

  “Continue with that line of thought, and you will lose the friendship of a Shining One king,” Torin warned Thor.

  “All right, ease down.” Thor held up his hands and laughed. “You two obviously have something special; I got it. Message received. And Cerberus has a hell of a friend in you, Elaria –pun intended. I'll behave, I promise.”

  “Wonderful,” I said. “Now, can we go see your girlfriend?”

  “Yeah, she's not really my girlfriend”–Thor looked embarrassed–“I kind of exaggerated the situation to piss off Cerberus.”

  “Fucking gods.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Hey, we need to find some way to keep eternity from getting boring.” Thor shrugged. “Grudges can be a lot of fun.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Freya lived in the top three floors of one of her hotels. We rode a glass elevator up to the lowest of those floors, passing security at both ground and penthouse levels. Then we had to be buzzed into her entry suite. The grandeur of it wasn't at all surprising at this point. I think I would have been more surprised to find modest accommodations. But Freya's suite fit the bill; spacious rooms of floor-to-ceiling windows, golden surfaces, and lots of white. What wasn't shiny, gold, or white; sparkled.

  The main room was circular, jutting out from the rest of the hotel in a graceful arch. The other floors curved inward, above this main floor, on two sides; leaving the entrance, and the windows across from it, wide open. A main sitting area was directly before the entryway, with couches set over the marble floor in circular precision, and a golden cocktail bar on the right. Inward curving steps led up to three more tiers laid before the windows, with the final tier opening onto a golden balcony. Silk curtains fluttered in the breeze which flowed through the extra-tall, open, French doors.

  The goddess herself sat ensconced on a fluffy chaise lounge –made fluffy by the addition of several white pelts– positioned on the topmost tier. I'm not sure what animals gave their lives to cushion Freya, but they were nothing so common as sheep. Long, elegant fingers dug into the thick fur, kneading like a cat –like all of the cats around her. There must have been thirty of them, at least. A pride of felines roaming, sleeping, and climbing over all the surfaces in the room. Every kind of cat was represented, from Persian to alley, and they were all well-behaved. None dared to claw or pee on anything they weren't allowed to. I guess a cat goddess can have that effect on your average tom.

  Freya herself didn't look very feline at first glance. Her hair was a mass of golden curls, left loose to fall around her pale shoulders in artful disarray. Pale skin, but with a golden-pink blush. This wasn't your normal Nordic beauty; this woman was a Viking's wet dream come to life. Her eyes were the color of the deep sea, but with streaks of glacier-blue to give them shimmer. They were framed by long, dark lashes, and set above a strong nose and a luscious mouth. Her body kept the lush theme going, with generous curves and a hint of muscles, which let you know this was no simpering maid. When Freya stood, and revealed that she was nearly six-feet tall, it really drove it all home. This was not a woman to trifle with.

  She was perfect for Cerberus.

  “Holy fucking hellfire,” I murmured as I approached her. “No wonder he still pines for you like a puppy.”

  “You know Cerberus?” Freya's eyes flashed white.

  “And you knew exactly who I was talking about,” I noted. “Interesting.”

  “Who are you?” Freya cocked her head at me, completely ignoring the men. “You look familiar.”

  “I'm Elaria Tanager”–I held out my hand to her–“it's a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Elaria,” she whispered as she shook my hand; a strong grip, of course. “His best friend.”

  “That's me,” I confirmed with a grin. “And you're the woman who broke his heart.”

  “He broke mine! The scoundrel! The villain!” Her hand slashed out as if Cer was there and she could slap his face. “The things he said to me were unforgivable.”

  “We all say awful things to our lovers when they hurt us,” I said gently. “From what I heard, you weren't innocent in the exchange.”

  “Humph.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “What are you doing here, spellsinger? Yes, I know what you are, as well as who. So why is the youngest spellsinger –the baby of the bunch– in my apartments? It can't possibly be to reunite me with Cerberus.”

  “If that's a byproduct of this visit, I'd be thrilled.”

  “Hey, I didn't bring you here to mend fences,” Thor growled.

  “I've heard rumors that the two of you are lovers.” Freya continued to ignore Thor, narrowing her eyes on me. “Why would you want us together?”

  “We sometimes encourage people to think that we're involved, just to make my work easier. I don't like dealing with flirty clients.” I shrugged. “I've never had a sexual relationship with Cerberus. Frankly, his friendship is too important to me to risk it.”

  “Thank the stones,” Torin muttered.

  “And who are you?” Freya finally deigned to speak to a man.

  “I am King Torin of Onyx”–Torin inclined his head regally–“and it is an honor to meet you, Lady Freya.”

  “So polite”–she smiled–“you may stay. But Thor”–she turned her gaze to Thor–“why are you here?”

  “Torin and Elaria wanted to speak with you for the same reason I wish to. So I allowed them to accompany me,” Thor said. “I do, of course, have more personal matters to discuss with you after they leave.”

  “Thor,�
� Freya sighed. “That was one drunken night; get over it.”

  I pressed my lips together, to keep from smiling. Wait till Cer heard this shit.

  “Never mind that now,” Thor said gruffly. “We wish to ask you if you've heard anything about some disappearing sirens.”

  “Disappearing sirens?” Freya lifted a perfectly winged brow. “Why would I know anything about that?”

  Thor looked pointedly at the kitty parade.

  “Ah, you want me to specifically ask my children about something which doesn't concern me or them.”

  “Freya, please,” Thor rumbled. “A friend of mine is missing, and these women are family to Elaria. Can you not help us?”

  “And what would I get in return?” Freya asked.

  “We're friends,” Thor huffed, “can you not do it out of friendship? A favor.”

  “A favor?” Freya blinked as if she didn't know what the word meant.

  “You would also have the gratitude of a Shining One king and a spellsinger,” Torin pointed out.

  “Gratitude is useless to me. How about a favor for a favor, Elaria?” Freya returned her attention to me. “We don't know each other, so you cannot expect the same treatment as Thor . . . which, believe me, is in your best interests.”

  “This is ridiculous, Freya.” Thor rolled his eyes. “I'm your friend, and a member of your pantheon, you should look into this for me simply because I asked. The fact that Elaria wants the information too, should have no bearing.”

  Frankly, I was shocked that Thor was trying so hard to help me. After the show he'd put on for Cerberus, I kind of expected Thor to be a self-serving asshole. But I should have known better; Torin chooses his friends too wisely for Thor to end up being a jerk. Just because Cerberus had some negative history with Thor, it didn't make him evil. Lots of people shared bad blood with Cerberus. It was just a byproduct of his guarding Hades for millennia. Oh, and there was the fact that Cerberus could be a bit of an asshat.

  “Thor, you seem to be laboring under a misconception.” Freya frowned. “We are not friends; we are acquaintances who once slept together. You have done nothing for me out of friendship, so why should I do anything for you?”

  “I've done lots of things for you,” Thor growled.

  “You've courted me,” Freya corrected. “That is completely different than being a friend. Courting a woman is an exchange. You give her things, treat her a certain way, expecting to get between her thighs at some point. Or, at least hoping.”

  “I like this lady,” I said to Torin.

  “I think I like you too, spellsinger,” Freya said. “So I offer you a fair exchange. As I was trying to say earlier; one favor for another. I will send my beautiful babies out, across the world, looking for your missing family members, if you will handle a small problem for me.”

  “What problem?” Torin asked.

  “This is between us ladies, Onyx King.” Freya tsked at Torin. “Allow us our bargaining.”

  “As you wish,” Torin agreed, “but should you try to swindle my lady, I will step in. And you will not like where I place my foot.”

  “I can think for myself, you know,” I said to Torin.

  “I know, Elaria,” Torin backpedaled, “I'm just trying to watch out for you.”

  “Men,” Freya said to me with a commiserating look and a head shake.

  “Men,” I agreed.

  “Shall we?” Freya waved her hand to an open doorway. A silk-covered bed was just visible through it.

  “After you.”

  Freya led me into her bedroom; a glorious room of silk, velvet, and more gold. She just wasn't a silver sort of person. A hand wave indicated that I should take a seat in a chair near the window. She sat in one beside me, and two cats slunk up to us immediately, to rub around her legs. Then, surprise of all surprises, one of the kitties veered off and rubbed up against me. My automatic response was to reach down and scratch it beneath the chin. The cat jumped up onto my lap and leveled a kitty stare on me. I stared back, then gave it a slow blink. It blinked back. Then it plopped onto my lap, nudging me to indicate I was allowed to pet it. I did as was required of such a situation, and started stroking. The cat started to purr.

  “Yes, I can deal with you,” Freya declared, her eyes set on the satisfied feline.

  “Did I just pass a test?” I laughed.

  “Of sorts.” Freya shrugged. “Now, here's the problem I have; Osiris.”

  “The Egyptian god?”

  “Yes, him. The man with the removable penis.” Freya nodded.

  “Is it really?” I lifted my brows. “I've heard the myths about how his brother sliced him into pieces, but I hadn't thought they were true.”

  “Honestly”–Freya smirked–“I don't know. I've always wondered though. He likes to feed the rumor mill and imply that his son was conceived with only his penis present.”

  “I don't even understand how that would work.”

  “I don't know if I want to.” Freya made a face, and then we both burst out laughing.

  “Now I'm curious to see it,” I whispered conspiratorially.

  “Darling, all of the Beneath is curious,” Freya purred.

  “So what's your problem with the potential penis-freak?”

  “He owns that.” She pointed out the window, at a pyramid-shaped hotel across the street. “There are several deities in Vegas, and I have no problem with that; there's more than enough money and worship to go around. But Osiris has been sending his little nubile Nubian nymphos over to my casino to steal my customers. He has decided to wage war on me; one love god challenging another.”

  “I thought Osiris was an underworld deity?”

  “He is many things”–Freya waved her hand vaguely–“as am I. He holds several titles, one of which is the Lord of Love. As I am the Lady of Love, he feels threatened by me.”

  “So, he sends prostitutes into your casinos to lure your customers to his side of the street?”

  “Precisely.”

  “That's dirty,” I noted.

  “It is.” She narrowed her eyes on me. “I know where he is, and I can get you access to him. If I do, do you think you can stop him with a song?”

  “Probably”–I worried at my lip with my teeth–“but changing a god's mind with a spellsong can be difficult. It's not like spellsinging a human or even an average member of the Beneath; Osiris has some serious magic to defend himself with. I would have to catch him by surprise or it would be a battle of wills and power.”

  “A surprise visit can be arranged.” Freya smirked.

  “This is too much to ask of me in return for information which costs you nothing to acquire,” I pointed out. “You said a fair exchange. So, I want one more thing in return.”

  “What?” She narrowed her eyes on me.

  “I want you to agree to give Cerberus a second chance.”

  “You're out of your fucking mind!” Freya screamed a little too theatrically.

  The cat on my lap went streaking away.

  “You know you want to.” I grinned. “Just go out with him; one night to give him a chance to make things up to you. This bargain provides you with the perfect cover; a way to relent without giving up your pride.”

  Freya took a deep breath and looked out the window. Her expression softened.

  “One night,” she whispered.

  “Excellent”–I held out my hand to her–“we have a deal.”

  “So we do,” she agreed. “But if that dog says anything bad about my cats, I will neuter him.”

  “Hey, what you two do in the bedroom has nothing to do with me.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Torin insisted that he join me on my mission to sing to Osiris. Thor decided to remain behind with Freya, much to Freya's chagrin. The cat goddess summoned a team of her casino employees to guide me through the labyrinthine hallways of Osiris's casino. Freya's team had acquired key cards for Osiris's casino, which would get us past all of Osiris's security measures, and into hi
s personal suite. They also had uniforms to blend in with his employees. With them as our escorts, we shouldn't have any trouble getting to Osiris. From there, it was up to me.

  It took a matter of minutes to navigate Osiris's casino and bypass his guards. As with most things in Vegas, it was all about appearance. We looked like we knew exactly what we were doing and had every right to be there. That was enough for most of Osiris's security guards, even though they wouldn't have recognized the men as fellow employees. The few times we were stopped, our security passes and some smooth talking saved us. It was only when we reached Osiris's main door to his private suite, that we ran into a pair of guards who were smarter than their coworkers.

  “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” Was the question one of the men immediately posed to Torin. I guess I didn't look threatening enough.

  I was grateful for their mistake, though. It allowed me to push Play on my iPod –I already had one earbud in, the other left hanging so I could hear what was happening around me. There were two songs cued up, ready to go. I'd been hoping I wouldn't have to use this one, but it wasn't a big deal. I simply wanted to put the men to sleep. A lullaby usually did the trick. Normally, I'd go traditional; Brahms. But I was feeling a little plucky, and decided on “Rock-a-bye Baby”. Within two lines, the men were sliding down the wall and curling up for a nice nap, draped sweetly across each other. We used one of their key cards to get inside.

  “Is this how smoothly it goes with most of your jobs?” Torin asked.

  “Only the ones that don't follow the word 'blow',” I said casually –so casually, that Torin didn't catch the joke at first. It took our trusty Freya sidekicks to snort in laughter and clue him in.

  “Are we feeling a little randy tonight?” Torin chuckled.

  “It depends”–I smiled as I slid into the room–“who's this Randy you're talking about, and how little is he?”

  “Ah, there's my amateur comedian.” Torin grimaced.

  Osiris's suite was just as large as Freya's and just as ostentatious. Except his was done in modern chrome and glass, with black leather couches and shimmering gray curtains. The carpet was set into geometric sections of the black marble floor and was a deep gray. Artwork consisted of stone statues, all Egyptian. Oh, and there was a Jacuzzi also set into the floor, right before the two-story wall of windows. To our right, a chrome staircase went up to the second-floor landing, but we wouldn't need to climb the stairs.