Siren Song

By Markie Madden

Can the Undead Unit resist the call of the Siren?

Singer/songwriter Briona Solis is one of the top musicians in the world. Her voice is acclaimed as the most radiant on the planet, and she has a gorgeous figure to match. When her band Solace books a two-week tour in Dallas, shows are sold out.

Kirsten Wagner is found in a deserted alley just minutes away from the concert. She's in shock and barely alive; her eyes have been removed with surgical precision. The team struggles to gather information on their case, hoping to prevent another assault.

And Kirsten isn’t the only one. Each night brings a new victim. The Undead Unit must race against time to catch the perpetrator. Will they be able to resist the call of the Siren, or will these cases go unsolved forever?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Metamorph Publishing
• Release date: Feb 14, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370695119

Markie Madden

Markie Madden, born Marguerite Malone on August 19, 1975 in Midland, Texas, is the author of Once Upon a Western Way, Keeping a Backyard Horse, and My Butterfly Cancer. She grew up in Flushing, Michigan, where she began to write stories when she was a teenager. She married in 1994 and now has 2 teenage daughters. She has 3 rescue dogs and a horse whom she enjoys spending time with. She is also a cancer survivor, battling leukemia (AML) in 2013-2014. She now resides in a small country town in Missouri, where she continues to write. She hopes that her newest book, Keeping a Backyard Horse, will help prevent accidental mistreatment of horses, and help educate horse owners in taking care of their horse even on a budget. She raised and trained her horse Athena. In 2014, she founded Metamorph Publishing as a way to self-publish her books, and she's now working with other indie authors as well. Her three books Once Upon a Western Way, Keeping a Backyard Horse, and My Butterfly Cancer are all available in print and for e-readers, and My Butterfly Cancer is also out in audiobook format. She can also be found on GoodReads, Scribophile, Shelfari, and Wattpad, as well as many other social media such as Twitter, Pinterest, Tumblr, LinkedIn, Facebook, and more.

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Siren Song

Undead Unit 4

Markie Madden

This book is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places and incidents are entirely fictional and are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, locations, or incidents is coincidental.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016916456

© 2017 by Metamorph Publishing and Markie Madden

Vector designed by Freepik: http://www.freepik.com/free-vector/pentagram-vector_710290.htm

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means- electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles—without the express written permission of the author or publisher.

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without by monetary gain, is investigated by the Federal Bureau of Investigation and is punishable by up to five (5) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Any brand and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. This book is not affiliated with any product or vendor within these pages.

ISBN# 978-1539317883

Smashwords ISBN# 978-1370695119

Published in Fisk, MO USA by Metamorph Publishing

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Books in The Undead Unit Series

Fang and Claw (Undead Unit 1)

Souls of the Reaper (Undead Unit 2)

Blood Lust (Undead Unit 3)

Siren Song (Undead Unit 4)

Ashes to Ashes (Undead Unit 5)—Coming Soon!

The Undead Unit Series

Over a hundred years in the future, it’s a world where supernatural beings live and work among humans. Of course, the government has forced them to take the Undead Oath in order to gain citizenship; they must not prey on humans for food. They’re often given tasks in jobs suited for their species, but just as among other minorities, they must struggle to prove themselves.

As if dealing with racial prejudice isn’t enough, there is also a criminal element, just as there is with any group of beings living in society. The Dallas Police Department has introduced an elite new squad made up of Undead officers and detectives. This unit is dedicated to solving crimes involving Immortals. Headed by veteran Lieutenant Lacey Anderson, can the Undead Unit overcome its obstacles, both internal and external, or will it be doomed to failure?

Dedicated to Kassidy, who battled Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma during the writing of this book. My heart is with you and your family! Stay strong, from one survivor to another.

Prologue

Every act of creation is first of all an act of destruction.~~Pablo Picasso

Music thrummed through the air, loud enough to make the insides vibrate with the pulse of heavy bass. Though the crowd was large, they were mostly silent, their eyes riveted on the performer in the spotlight. Heads bobbed to the beat, and many people swayed in place. The Gexa Energy Pavilion in Dallas was, as usual, at capacity, perhaps even stretched beyond the recommended maximum. Just minutes from the heart of downtown Dallas, Gexa was the premiere venue for outdoor music. Tickets were scarce unless money was no issue, and all the biggest A-listers in music played there, or planned to.

The woman in the middle of the stage was one of the most beautiful human specimens. Long, blonde waves framed a pale, heart-shaped face, and piercing blue-gray eyes sparkled under the different hues of the warm spotlights. Her centerfold measurements were plain to see in the skin-tight sequined costume dress. The silver color of her outfit and the multitude of rhinestones glowed and flashed with every sway of her curvy hips. The skirt, which fell to just south of the crotch, had long shiny fringe that spun in continuous motion. A single hot pink stripe in her hair matched the swirling abstract designs flowing across the big screen behind her. Those closest to the stage could see the one-color tattoo of a phoenix on the inside of her right wrist.

Briona Solis was the top female music star of the United States, some opinions said in the world, during the early summer of 2119. The singer wore a microphone and headset disguised as a gemstone-studded tiara, and her perfect red lips moved in time to the music as she belted out the lyrics of her latest hit, Breaking My Heart. Fireworks exploded in the background in time with the beat, shooting up and fading away under a moonless sky winking with bright starlight.

The band was Solace, a play-on-words of the way her surname was pronounced, and a description of the love songs Briona preferred to sing. Their backup singers, though also beautiful, couldn’t begin to compare with the striking good looks of America’s sweetheart. They wore short black dresses as if to blend into the background and not outshine the star. The two guitarists, keyboard player, and drummer were all typical musicians; the long-haired men were scruffy of face, and undeniably attractive to those of the opposite sex.

The music reached a crescendo and stopped on a loud beat, and the lights faded out, except for one centered on Briona. She stood with arms outstretched, head tipped back and eyes closed, standing lightly on her toes in a pose reminiscent of statues of ancient goddesses. Her breasts heaved as she drew in one deep breath after another. The crowd, packed shoulder-to-shoulder and elbow-to-elbow on the lush grass of the amphitheater, erupted in shouts. Cheers, applause, and catcall whistles surged through the air. Rather than give a bow, Briona offered a quick curtsy to her adoring fans, which only increased their fervor. Then, the pavilion went dark!

Shouts of Encore broke out through the people gathered under the stars. Though the concert started almost five hours ago, and was always considered a good value for the ticket price, Americans in general and Dallas residents in particular loved Briona and Solace. This wasn’t the first time she performed at Gexa, and she was certain to return every so often. Every show she did at the pavilion was sold-out, and with her popularity, soaring even higher than ever, the trend would continue.

So, after a ten-minute costume change, Briona returned to the stage for her signature encore number, a song she had remixed with choruses from all her best hits, one that was sure to appease her enthusiasts. For this last act, the backup singers did not appear, and the musicians were not highlighted with spots, so they were barely visible to the fans. It seemed as if Briona was alone, lyrics tumbling from her lips as her tremendous and beautiful voice rose and fell in auditory magic.

At the end of the number, the lights faded until only a single pale pink spot shone over her, and Briona held both hands out in front of her as if to appease the audience. With a breathless whisper, she called, Thank you, Dallas, and as always, you’re my number one fans! Anything else she said was drowned out by the roar of humanity, no matter how powerful an amplifier she used. The huge throng of humanity was still cheering and shouting by the time she entered her bus parked behind the theater and stage. However, though the show was over, her work in Dallas was just beginning.

The woman awoke slowly, her mind awash in a drug-induced haze. There was an unpleasant smell she couldn’t quite identify, but the scent reminded her of the sanitized odor lingering in hospital hallways. She did not know where she was, or how she’d gotten there. The last thing she could remember was the concert. Briona Solis was her all-time favorite singer, and she’d saved money out of her paychecks for six months to purchase the ticket. But—where was she now?

Even though her entire body was shaking, she resisted the urge to open her eyes, and just... listened. There was the impression of being in a huge space; though she heard nothing other than her own breathing, she was certain her voice would echo if she spoke. The floor beneath her felt hard and cool, and she brushed her fingers against it in an imperceptible movement. It was almost perfectly smooth, though it had minute bumps and pits. Concrete, she realized. I’m on a concrete floor. Before she could ponder the reason she was lying on the floor, she faded into unconsciousness once more.

The next time she woke, Kirsten’s mind was a little clearer, though she still did not understand why she wasn’t safe in her home. At least, she assumed she’d gone home after the concert. She went alone and had no conscious plans to go anywhere else. Kirsten wanted to rest all day Sunday because she had to work early Monday morning. Oh, good, I’ve remembered my name, at least. The woman had the sense of time having passed and guessed she’d been lying there for quite a while. Experimentally, she moved her arms and legs, wondering if she was tied or otherwise restrained. But her limbs moved freely, albeit with the tingling sensation of pins and needles, as if the circulation had been rudely cut off.

Hello? Her voice was raw and scratchy, more than likely due to screaming and cheering at the concert. I did go to the concert, didn’t I? She wondered. After a moment, she decided that she must have; Kirsten could clearly remember what her beloved music star wore during the show. Is there anybody there? There was only silence. Kirsten waited several more minutes before deciding to open her eyes.

Why is it still dark? And, why did her eyes feel so—empty and hollow? She tried to blink, thinking perhaps her eyes were just dry, but she couldn’t tell if her eyelids were working right. Tentatively, she reached trembling fingers to her face. The woman felt the wetness on her cheeks and wondered if she’d been weeping. Kirsten didn’t feel sad, so why would she have been crying? Her hands roamed up her face, and a deep fear surged through her, chilling her to the bone. Again, she tried to blink, but then just closed her eyes so she didn’t poke them with her own fingers in the darkness.

It took several moments before her brain comprehended what she felt with her fingertips. The soft skin under the fluff of her eyebrows, the tiny, stiff hairs of eyelashes, the contours of the bones under her eyes all seemed normal. But, under the loose flaps of skin still painted with makeup, where her eyes should have been, she felt only a hollow emptiness. The eyes were missing. Kirsten began to scream, and she couldn’t stop.

1

Music is a moral law.~~Plato

Lacey glanced at the caller ID on her phone and scowled. It’s supposed to be my night off! What could dispatch possibly want? Anderson.

Lieutenant, this is Dispatch. You’re needed on an urgent call.

Where? Hold on. Lacey looked around quickly, trying to remember where she left her tablet.

Marcell glanced up from the academic text he was reading, a questioning glance on his face. He must have realized what she needed and slid the electronic memo pad he was using across the coffee table to her. Use this.

Thanks, she whispered out of the corner of her mouth. Yeah, go ahead.

Report to Medical City emergency room. You’ll meet your victim there.

What about the crime scene? Lacey demanded. I assume there’s a crime scene?

Yes, Lieutenant, there is. The dispatcher read off an address. Uniforms have the scene secured, and they will stand by until your arrival. However, it’s imperative you go to the hospital first. They’re waiting to sedate the victim until you can speak with her.

Confused because this was not usual protocol, she asked, What’s the story?

I don’t know the answer to that, Lieutenant. They said to tell you to hurry.

All right, thanks. Lacey hung up the phone and just stared at it a moment, her brows drawn downward in an upside-down V.

What is it? Marcell asked, taking the memo pad from her. His jet-black hair had tones of deep red, and his honey-colored eyes showed concern.

I’m not sure. They’re telling me the vic’s already at the hospital, and I’m to see her before I go to the scene.

That’s a little odd.

Yeah. The woman picked up her boots and started for the stairs to change her clothes. Hey, call Kazz for me, will you? Have her call Colton and meet me there? Lacey knew Marcell wasn’t entirely comfortable calling Colton himself, especially since the Wolf would know immediately that they were together. Though Lacey frequently told Marcell Colton approved of their relationship, she knew he was still leery of her ‘Big Brother’.

Medical City?

Where else? Lacey tossed over her shoulder as she went upstairs. Morgan, the brindle rescue dog she adopted almost a year ago, followed her, tail waving slowly.

Lacey changed quickly into a pair of new, dark blue jeans and a soft cashmere sweater. She grabbed a clip holster from the dresser and slid her weapon into the small of her back. Lacey put on a fresh pair of socks, slid her boots on, and ran a brush through her hair. Satisfied, she looked at herself in the mirror: ice-blue eyes gazed back at her from her pale, Vampire skin, and her straight, blonde hair fell to her shoulders. Good enough, she thought. Then, she went back downstairs to find Marcell waiting near the front door, her keys in hand.

I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, she told him apologetically.

You forget, I’ve tied my Fate to a cop’s, he reminded her yet again.

Yeah, right. Lacey tried to shrug off his veiled message they were ‘together’ forever. He’s lucky I haven’t run screaming at the thought of him practically living here for the past month, she thought. Even so, she rose to her toes to give him a kiss that was, for her, rather passionate. Lacey still did not fully accept their relationship though they spent more time together than apart. At least, lately they did. Lacey wasn’t even sure at what point their informal dating changed. It seemed like she woke up one morning, and he had half her closet, and his manly hygiene products lined the edge of the sink in her master bathroom.

She turned for the door, but he lightly touched her shoulder. Be careful. It was the last thing she heard from him each time she left on a call.

Be back soon.

She stepped out into the oppressive summer heat. Even though the sun had long since gone down, the temperature still hovered in the 90’s, with humidity to match. Just looking outside could cause a human to sweat profusely. Lacey walked in the garage and got in her car. The sleek, new Audi had a custom all-over chrome-like paint job in a sparkling teal green color. When Lacey had to shop for a new vehicle, the hue of the paint was the first thing that drew her in. It wasn’t metallic flake, a color boringly common on vehicles; the paint gleamed like chrome itself though with a background of deep aqua instead of silver metal.

Lacey started the car, and even her sensitive ears could barely hear the engine running. The air conditioning kicked on, blowing blissfully cold air on her face. As much as she loved her previous wheels, this vehicle was brand-spanking-new, had only 53 miles on it when she bought it, and was loaded from bumper to bumper with all the latest technologies the dealership offered. The headlights turned on automatically when she put the car in gear, and she tuned the radio to a popular late-night music show. She pulled slowly down the driveway and drove off into the night.

What? What is it? Kazz sat bolt upright in bed before realizing her phone was ringing. The woman snatched it from the table next to her bed. Officer Moss.

She was surprised to hear Marcell’s voice on the other end. Karan, this is Marcell. Lacey asked me to call you. The Lieutenant is headed to Medical City and, she’d like you and Colton to join her.

How long?

She’s going there now. She wants you to call Detective Scarber as well.

Thanks, Marcell, I will.

Kazz turned on the lamp next to the bed and rubbed her eyes. The young Shifter stretched completely, like a dog waking from a nap. Kazz didn’t know why she always did this, but it served to help her come to full awareness. Perhaps it was a leftover, ingrained habit of the DNA that enabled her to change into a dog.

That done, she called Colton, who agreed to pick her up, and went to the closet for clothes. She was waiting on the curb outside her apartment when her partner, and superior officer, arrived in his ancient pickup truck. Kazz had a cup of coffee in one hand, and a protein bar in the other. Like other Shifters, she had a rapid metabolism and needed to eat frequently.

What’s up? She asked as she climbed into the aging pickup.

I don’t know, Colton replied, steering the truck into the darkened and empty city streets. It’s weird, though. The Lieutenant wants us at the hospital rather than the crime scene.

Colton, a Werewolf, had the bulky build of others of his species, with dark hair he kept short, although the curling ends indicated he needed a trim.

The scene must be secure, Kazz answered. Or else it’s more important to interview the victim first. Or both.

It’s still a bit unusual.

The rest of the drive passed in silence. Kazz finished her protein bar and put the wrapper in the trash can Colton kept dangling from a cup holder.

As soon as they drove into the emergency room parking lot, Kazz saw Lacey’s new car parked in an ‘official use only’ spot. Colton pulled in the empty slot next to Lacey. They walked to the automatic sliding doors, and Kazz saw Lacey waiting for them.

Victim’s already been taken back, she said abruptly.

Good morning to you, too, Colton snarled. If you could consider this morning yet. It was not quite 3am.

Sorry. Lacey led them back to the rear of the emergency department. I know it was everybody’s day off, but crimes don’t follow a schedule. Let’s go.

Kazz looked at Colton and shrugged. Doesn’t bother me much, she muttered.

Because you’re just a kid, Colton complained. Behind his back, Kazz stuck her tongue out at him.

The room Lacey took them to was down an isolated hallway and was usually reserved for sexual assault cases since it was away from the bustling main section of the ER. Kazz gulped and took a deep breath. Rape cases always bothered her. Lacey paused a moment as if she, too, must steel herself for what they would find inside. Whatever Kazz thought it would be, she was so, so very wrong.

A young woman was tucked into a rolling bed, rather than a fixed examination table. The patient was wrapped in a white blanket, and from a stand holding several containers, IV tubes snaked to one arm at her side. The woman’s blonde hair was matted and covered in blood, and her eyes were hidden behind a great deal of thick cotton gauze. What skin could be seen was lightly cocoa-colored. She turned her head in slow motion toward the door as the officers walked in. A man in green surgical scrubs stood monitoring a screen showing various vital signs.

Are you the police? The man asked quietly, sizing them up.

Lieutenant Anderson. Lacey offered to shake, but the man’s hands wore hospital gloves and she dropped her arm.

Gavin Reese, Nurse Practitioner. He turned back to the monitor.

What happened? Lacey barked.

"We had to sedate her; she was in too much pain. The doctor instructed me to wait for you and give her a booster when you arrived. We