I steeled my back. No matter how little Dahlia believed in me, no matter how little Tad believed in me, I knew I could do this. I had to, if not to prove them wrong, then to prove to myself that I wasn’t the anchor holding my friends down. That I could protect myself and them when the crunch time came.
The open path ahead of me was lit with torches on either side, and I strode between them. I snapped my fingers back at her. “Keep up, Dahlia.”
She sucked in a sharp breath and then hurried to do as I’d suggested. I didn’t want to make a scene of things. But she was wrong; I could do this.
Even if I was terrified that I would screw it up and get us both killed.
A roll of fog curled up around my ankles as I walked, and for a second I thought I was shifting.
“Theatrics, he loves a show,” Dahlia breathed out.
I didn’t react, just kept moving. The thick cover rolled up in front of me, and I kept moving into it, as if I didn’t care that—I slammed into a body, nose to nose.
Yelping, I bounced back from the fog and hit Dahlia, and the two of us tumbled back onto the ground, limbs tangling. So much for a strong first impression.
Her eyes narrowed, and she pinched her mouth shut as I struggled to get upright as fast as possible. “Great intro,” she mumbled.
I looked up to see Santos emerge from the fog, rubbing his nose. A giggle full of nerves bubbled up in my chest. “You know, you should tell people you’re trying to make a big show of things. I thought it was a test of courage, not your entrance music, so to speak.”
Dahlia let out a soft groan. “Don’t irritate him further.”
Santos lifted an eyebrow, and again I got that sense I knew him from somewhere, like I’d met him before all of this. I pushed to my feet and held a hand out to Dahlia. She didn’t take it, and I turned away from her.
“Tell me,” Santos drawled, his words humming along my skin, “did you come to surrender?”
“Not exactly.” I tucked my hands behind my back, then brought them around the front and finally folded my arms. “I . . . Remo is not who I thought he was. He tried to force himself on me.”
“And I give a shit, why, exactly?” He smiled. “How do you know I wouldn’t do the same?”
Oh dear, this was going downhill faster than if someone had indeed cut the gondola cables. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. What could I say to that?
“Because we know things about him and his operation.” Dahlia stepped up. “Perhaps we could trade information for protection.”
He leaned back, a big booming laugh rolling from his mouth. His fangs flashed in the flickering torchlight, reminding me that I shouldn’t underestimate him.
“My blood.” I paused and glanced at Dahlia, who shook her head. “It—”
“Tastes good? All blood tastes good. Did you think you were something special? Something I’ve never seen before? I’ve been around as long as Remo, and I’ve seen it all. You’re just a souped-up version of a naga.” He made a dismissive wave with his hand, and I frowned.
All around us, vampires shot from the darkness, weapons in hand.
Dahlia pressed against me. “If you’re going to lead, now is the time to do it.”
She was right. I gathered what courage I had left to me and swallowed hard.
“Listen here, hamster balls, I am special.” I took several steps until we were so close I could see the violet-blue flecks in the darkness of his eyes. I lowered my voice and pushed power into the words, knowing they were true, and knowing he knew it too. “I am special.”
His eyelids fluttered, and he lifted a hand that slowed the advance of his troops. “You . . . are special.”
I lowered my voice to a bare whisper, banking our lives on what I said next. “And you want to talk with me and Dahlia in private.”
He raised his other hand and waved it around. “Leave them to me; I want to talk to them in private.”
So apparently he had already wanted this? Or was I getting stronger? Sweating, I fluttered my eyelashes up at him. “Tell them not to disturb us.”
“You will not disturb us!” He bellowed right in my face. He did not smell like Remo at all. The scent of licorice hovered in the air between us. The same smell I’d picked up on the oil that had burned me. I had to fight not to step back. Santos stepped to my side and curled an arm around my waist, tugging me tight to his side.
“Come along.”
I glanced at Dahlia. She shrugged, her eyes wide. What choice did we have if we didn’t want to fight our way out? And we’d come for a reason; I needed to find out just what Santos had on me.
How had he been able to find something that could hurt me so badly, so fast? I mean, it was like he’d been just waiting for me to show up so he could use it. Which made no sense. I’d been a Super Duper for such a short time.
“I asked you what it was exactly that Remo did to you, to turn you against him?” Santos tightened his grip on my waist, and I realized I’d zoned out on him.
“Oh, well.” I cleared my throat and made myself look around. We approached a two-story wood cabin that was, from what I could see, easily a ten-thousand-square-foot house. “He tried to push himself on me. Dahlia stopped him, and he hurt her. I realized then we’d chosen the wrong side.”
The words were stilted, and without a lot of emotion or detail, but Santos nodded. “He’s a complete control freak. Always has been. Here, let’s go to my office.” He opened the main door to the monster log house, and we stepped inside. The warmth of two large fireplaces, one at either side of the entrance hall, curled around me.
Though I wasn’t bothered by the cold, the warmth called to me. I rubbed my hands over my arms. “This is lovely.”
Dahlia snorted.
“Yes, rather lovely, the previous owner had, oh, shall we call it excellent taste.” He winked as if I were too stupid to get the pun. “He and his family were exceptionally delicious,” Santos said and then frowned at me. The fog that had slid over his eyes faded, and I smiled up at him as my belly clenched with fear.
I pushed my siren ability into my words. “You were going to take us to your office?”
His smile widened once more, a wicked smile that might have curled my toes if I hadn’t met Remo first. Good grief, what was wrong with me? Was this part of being a siren, wanting the bad boys? I sure hoped not.
“Yes, this way.” He headed to the main staircase that spread up into the second floor. Santos led the way and we followed. He glanced back several times, a slight frown on his lips. He was pushing off my suggestions faster than the Viking had.
Down a hallway to a set of double doors, and we were inside his office. Nope, wrong again.
He shut the doors behind us and locked the door with a chuckle. “Multiuse room. Please make yourselves comfortable.”
The master bedroom was so big even the king-size bed looked tiny. Across from us was a pair of French doors that led onto a wide balcony, where I could hear the bubbling of a hot tub. A thick rug covered the wooden floor near the bed, and the smell of stale sex whispered over my nose. Oh dear, this was worse than burning a million-dollar square. And yes, that was an actual recipe.
I couldn’t make my feet go farther into the room. Dahlia stayed behind me. “Now what, oh mighty leader?” she whispered.
Santos turned as he unbuttoned his shirt.