to believe she must have shouted the words. Jeez, it was hard to judge sound when your hearing was wonky. Mindful not to blast his eardrums, she deliberately lowered the pitch of her voice for the rest of her statement. “I thought my brain was going to detonate earlier, but now it’s mostly just…foggy.”
Pocketing his penlight, Boone gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Wrestling a leviathan wasn’t exciting enough for you, huh? Had to go and get in a yelling match with a siren. You’re damn lucky your eardrums didn’t rupture.”
She peered at Max, recalling how he hadn’t even covered his ears. “Why is it that you’re perfectly fine?”
“I’m immune to any siren’s call. All sharks are. I suspect you would be too, if your nymph side was fully integrated into your psyche.”
“Nymph side?” Boone parroted.
Max gave him a quick rundown of events without revealing Willa’s true identity. But even without that staggering part of the story, Boone still looked properly stunned. “Do you think the siren was Reva, and not merely one of her cronies?”
“I’d say it’s a good bet. I haven’t heard anything from Justin yet about word of his grandmother’s escape, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything if he truly wasn’t in the loop of what was going on. Speaking of being in the loop, I better get a hold of Jona and let him know we have a homicidal siren in our backyard.”
Max reached for his cell, and she strained to keep up with his side of the phone conversation, her panic escalating. If Reva Bellemuir had indeed escaped… “Aurele! We have to let her know what happened.”
As soon as Max finished talking to his deputy, he handed over his cell phone, and she frantically punched in Aurele’s number. When the voice mail kicked on, she practically screamed in frustration. After leaving the older woman a brief message about Reva’s appearance in Tybee, as well as terse orders for Aurele to call Max’s cell phone, Willa hung up and buried her face in her hands, helpless sobs racking her. Max’s strong arms surrounded her. Despite her resolve to at least pretend at being a steady rock, she clung to him. He stroked her hair, soothing her. His presence comforted, but it didn’t change the reality of the nightmare facing them.
Secured prison walls no longer protected the world from Reva Bellemuir’s hatred.
The countdown to Armageddon had just begun.
Chapter Sixteen
It took every ounce of Harrison’s nonexistent patience not to strangle Reva as the duchess sailed by him and stormed into the stationhouse. That stupid, crazy bitch. What the hell had she been thinking, letting loose with her caterwauling before the fucking shark and the girl abandoned their vehicle? Clearly being locked up all those years had killed off more than a few of the siren’s brain cells.
Pivoting, he walked inside the building and slammed the front door shut. Not that it did a damn bit of good. The glass that should have been affixed within the frame currently littered the floor. He glared at the duchess’s rigid back. “Don’t ever do that again.”
She whipped around and stared at him coldly. “How dare you speak to me that way. Do you know who I am?”
Yes, you’re a fucking basket case. He’d worked with enough of them to read the signs. Hell, he’d been forced to deal with seven basket cases with his previous mentor. Definitely made him an expert on the subject. “Because of that giant hissy fit you threw out there, the girl got away.” Again. With that fucking shark in tow, no less. Damn if that didn’t sting worst than salt in a wound.
“Do you take me for a fool?”
Did she honestly expect him to answer? No, too easy.
“The girl didn’t slip through our fingers with no hope of being found again. We’ll simply lay a trap for her.”
He flicked a speck of dust from his waistcoat. “And how do you plan on going about it? Bloody difficult to lay a trap without bait.”
“Everyone has a weakness. It only takes a little digging to find it. I propose we start searching for clues at her residence.” She marched to the nearest desk and waved imperiously at the computer resting there. “I trust you know how to use one of these contraptions? Plug in her name and find out where she lives.”
He despised being ordered around. It reminded him too much of his previous life. Still, it was a necessary means to a glorious end. Crossing to the