Wicked Whispers Read online

  A razor-sharp chorus stabbed a fleeing man over and over until he lay dead in a growing pool of blood. Murmur hummed the harmony as he killed.

  The melody line wrapped around the wrinkled throat of an old woman and tightened.

  He didn’t wait to see her face darken before he targeted a huge man trying to hide behind one of the hovels. Murmur trapped the man between the notes of his crescendo, slamming them against his body, battering him with the swelling climax to his musical masterpiece. The man’s agonized screams made Murmur wince. The guy’s shrieks were so off-key that they hurt. When the music ended, the man lay dead.

  Murmur spun in a slow circle. They all were dead. Wait for it, wait for it… It came. The unbelievable euphoria that mindless killing had always brought him. It was a power surge he never grew tired of. Why had he ever stopped? This was what he’d been created for.

  “Remember that, Murmur.” Klepoth’s whisper came from right behind him.

  Murmur turned, his mind still soaring on his killing high. “What does the Master want?”

  Klepoth smiled. “He wants you to remember. To reclaim the savagery and cruelty you once had.” Then he was gone. The village with its dead went with him.

  Murmur opened his eyes. His euphoria had disappeared, and he was soaked with sweat. The feeling churning in his stomach was so unexpected that he almost didn’t make it to the bathroom. He emptied his stomach and then dry heaved until his abs ached. When he finally struggled to his feet, he felt almost weak. He stumbled into the shower and scrubbed the memory of the dream—the torn flesh, the blood, the shrieks, the ease with which humans died—from his body.

  Once out of the bathroom, he dressed again and headed for the door. He needed out of here. The reaction to his dream had struck a chord of fear he couldn’t face right now. The demon he’d once been and still should be would never puke his brains out over a few human deaths.

  And in a place he kept hidden even from himself, he suspected his nausea had nothing to do with the blood and gore, the human deaths. He was… Murmur closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, his white screen was once again in place and all temptation to take a peek into his psyche was tucked neatly behind it.

  Rather than sit staring at the screen, he decided to search out someone who’d irritate him so much that he’d forget about the dream.

  Ivy stared at the stone steps as she walked down to the great hall. No way would she take the chance of trapping herself in an elevator where scary nonhumans could join her at any moment. The winding stairway might be narrow, but at least she had somewhere to run if she needed to escape. And as long as she watched where she put her feet, she wouldn’t slip and take a header.

  She heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs at the same moment he spoke.

  “You must be Ivy.” His voice was smooth and cool.

  Startled, she glanced up. He was tall enough that even though he was standing a step below her, they were still at eye level.

  “Yes. And you are?” She knew her words sounded a little breathless, but who could blame her?

  “Tirron. I’m staying here for a few weeks.”

  In some ways, he looked like Murmur. Both were tall with long hair—his almost silver instead of blond—and beautiful faces, but their similarity had nothing to do with the physical stuff. His power pushed at her. She could feel it. It felt like Murmur’s power and yet different—harder with no flexibility to it, brittle. When did you begin to feel power?

  He had cold eyes. Murmur’s eyes could grow just as cold, but he had a sense of humor that softened them a little. Caustic, mocking, but still humorous. Ivy sensed no humor in this man.

  “Wait? How do you know me?” She would have remembered meeting him.

  He smiled, but it never reached his icy blue eyes. “I’m a friend of Murmur’s. He described you.”

  He leaned closer and, no matter how gorgeous he was, she had the urge to move back. “Why would he describe me?” Something about this man’s interest made her want to turn and run back up the steps.

  He raised one brow. “You’re a very attractive woman. Why wouldn’t he notice and comment on it to a friend?”

  She controlled the urge to squirm, to look away from his stare. And yet… There was something about his beauty that drew her. How could she feel attracted and repelled at the same time?

  “You’re perfect, just perfect.”

  “Yes, well…” Perfect for what? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Because something more than sexual interest lived in his eyes for a moment and then was gone.

  “Perhaps we’ll hunt the night skies together.” His comment was almost a whisper.

  She smiled, because he was kidding, right? Ivy took a deep breath. If she were a braver person, she would have asked if he was a demon too. Time to get out of here. He was making her way too nervous. “I guess I’d better stop blocking the steps. Nice meeting you.” She flattened herself against the wall so that he could pass.

  After one more long, searching look, he eased past her and was gone. She exhaled the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

  For the rest of the walk to Sparkle’s shop, she pushed the thought that Murmur had spoken to Tirron about her around in her head. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

  But thoughts of Murmur turned to annoyance as Ivy waited impatiently for Sparkle to dole out a bag of candy to a woman who seemed to want one of everything. She sighed. All she wanted from her boss was a list of routine jobs she was expected to complete each day, things that a normal personal assistant would do. Not that “normal” was in Sparkle’s vocabulary. Ivy thought about the mountain of complaints. Fine, so she shouldn’t be asking for more duties on top of the sorting job still waiting for her. But Ivy needed to lose herself in her job.

  Finally the woman left and Sparkle perched on a stool behind her counter. She folded her hands with their perfect nails on the glass top. “Have you calmed down?”

  “Yes.” Translation: not even a little. “I need a list of things you want done each day.”

  Sparkle crossed her long legs and dangled one metallic stiletto from her toe. “You’re still upset. Did anything happen after our meeting that I should know about?”

  “You could say that.” Did she sound bitter? Ivy hoped so.

  “Tell me.” Sparkle’s gaze sharpened.

  “I… can’t tell you.” Damn, damn, damn.

  Sparkle frowned. “Of course you can. I’m your trusted confidant, your best friend, your…”

  “You don’t understand, babe. She really can’t tell you, like in ‘can’t tell you because someone laid a compulsion on her.’ Interesting.”

  Who… ? An unfamiliar male voice in her head. And how did he pick up on Murmur’s compulsion? Ivy stepped up to the counter and leaned over to take a look. A chubby gray cat stared up at her from big amber eyes. This must be the Ganymede that Murmur mentioned. “There’re too many cats in my head.”

  Ivy was sure her visions of an ordinary secure job and a house with a white picket fence were morphing into something dark and unrecognizable the longer she spent in this cursed place.

  Sparkle was instantly alert. “What do you mean?”

  “I just met a Siamese cat named Asima. She thinks she could do a better job as your assistant.”

  Sparkle’s eyes were amber slits of fury. “The bitch is back.”

  That didn’t sound good. Ivy thought about backing out of the store and putting some distance between her and her boss. But she discarded the idea before it could get any traction. Two weeks. That’s how long she had to stick it out.

  “Do you have a problem with Asima?” An obvious yes, but Ivy wanted a few details.

  “A little misunderstanding. Girl stuff. Nothing important.” Ganymede’s gaze shifted away from Ivy.

  Furry little liar. “I know what you guys are.” Sort of. “So don’t try to hide things from me.”

  They both ignored her.

  The
gray cat leaped onto the counter to rub his head against Sparkle’s arm. “Calm down, sugarhoney. You know that you do things you regret when you lose your temper.”

  Sparkle turned her outraged gaze on the cat. “She told Isis where to find Holgarth. He was devastated. Not just a bitch, but a traitorous bitch.”

  Ivy stood staring. She didn’t understand any of this. It seemed that everyone here had shared histories. She’d always be on the outside looking in. And for the few weeks she’d be here, that’s exactly where she wanted to stay.

  “I want her out of my castle.” Sparkle’s long red hair was starting to lift from her shoulders as though blown by a phantom breeze, and her eyes were glowing amber.

  “Will the drama never end?” Asima suddenly appeared next to Ivy. She sat and curled her tail around herself.

  Ivy gasped. Where had Asima come from? Not that it really mattered. From the look in Sparkle’s eyes, it might be wise to move away from her target of choice. Ivy backed toward the door, only to make contact with a hard body.

  “This is just the distraction I needed.”

  Ivy didn’t have any problem identifying the husky voice so close to her ear. Murmur. She hadn’t heard him come into the store. He put his hand on her shoulder and leaned close.

  “You can’t leave now. This is entertainment at its best.”

  Ivy was torn between her need to escape whatever was about to happen and her desire to turn around and punch Murmur in his perfect face. She tried to ignore the warmth from his hand. She didn’t want any part of him touching her.

  She wasn’t sure what she would have said to him, because Sparkle interrupted.

  “Get her out of my castle. Now.” Sparkle stared at Ganymede. “I’d do it myself, but then she’d say something snotty and I’d have to tear her head off.”

  Ganymede’s fuzzy face wore a hunted expression as he glanced at Murmur. “Do something, demon. Let’s hear some music. I don’t give a damn what it is as long as it calms my sweetie. Even ‘Dirge for a Dead Donut’ would sound great right now.”

  “Sorry, but I don’t interfere in private disagreements.” Murmur didn’t look sorry.

  Asima yawned, showing every one of her sharp little teeth. “You can’t order me out of your castle, slut queen. You and Ganymede said I could stay here.” Her elegant cat face wore a smug expression. “Perhaps it was after I convinced Bast to save you, or it might have been any number of times I came to the rescue of you and your tubby sidekick.”

  “Tubby sidekick?” Ganymede was doing a lot of mental sputtering.

  Not only was Sparkle’s hair now floating in an invisible breeze, but she was levitating off her stool. “I take back my permission. Now get your ass out of here.”

  Undaunted, Asima lifted one paw, licked it, and calmly washed her face. “I’m afraid that would be impossible. Cats take promises seriously. Once you give a cat permission to stay somewhere, it’s binding. Tell her, Ganymede.”

  Ganymede hissed at Asima before leaping from the counter and joining Ivy and Murmur by the door. “Hate to say this, cupcake, but I’m afraid she’s right. Cats honor their promises to other cats.”

  “I guess it’s lucky then that I’m not a cat.” Sparkle actually growled. “Honor this, bitch.” And she leaped over the counter at Asima.

  Murmur grabbed Ivy’s hand and pulled her from the store. Ganymede rammed into the back of her legs in his need to escape. Murmur slammed the door shut behind them.

  “Run.” Ganymede bounded away, his ears pinned flat against his head and his tail puffed up to twice its size.

  Murmur dragged Ivy along with him as he hurried her back to the castle. Ganymede had already disappeared from sight. As she ran, she heard the sounds of shrieks, feline howls, and things breaking. The whole store shook.

  “Shouldn’t we try to stop them?” Please say no. All Ivy wanted to do was run to her room and bury her head under the covers.

  “Are you crazy?”

  Despite everything, she sensed laughter in Murmur’s words.

  “You don’t step between two powerhouses like Sparkle and Asima without waving good-bye to your ass beforehand.” He glanced at Ivy. “Don’t worry, they won’t destroy each other. This is just a claws and hair-pulling event. If they were out for a kill, half of Galveston would be gone by now.”

  Gee, that was comforting. She glanced around at people still walking nearby. “Why isn’t anyone noticing the noise? I mean, you can see the store moving.”

  “Ganymede glamoured the place before he ran.”

  Glamoured? The word triggered her memory of the ogre and what Murmur had done to her. She yanked her hand from his. “I want your compulsion gone. The whole thing will come out anyway. Asima saw…” She ground her teeth in frustration as once again her lips refused to form the words. “Anyway, Asima will tell everyone what she saw, so you may as well let me tell it first.”

  Asima knew? Murmur had to rethink his plan. He couldn’t stop the cat from talking if she decided to blab. But he could negotiate for her silence. Asima was as manipulative as anyone in the castle. She’d have a price.

  “I don’t think so. I need your silence for a little longer.” Say about two weeks.

  He studied Ivy. Now that he’d spent some time with her, he realized that not only did she have a great mouth, but her eyes weren’t an ordinary brown. They were deep, rich chocolate framed by long dark lashes. Strange how he hadn’t noticed that before.

  “You are such an ass.”

  Of course, that beautiful mouth didn’t always form beautiful words.

  “Why should it matter if I saw… ?” Her lips clamped shut while her eyes promised him a slow painful death as soon as she figured out how to do it.

  He smiled. “I love a woman with a healthy temper. It’s a sign of passion.”

  She paused as though she couldn’t think of anything insulting enough to toss at him. Not surprising. People who’d lived a lot longer and knew a lot more than she did usually had trouble too. Of course, they were usually dying at the time. Tough to concentrate under those circumstances.

  Ivy finally settled on “Go to hell.”

  “Been there, given guided tours.” He shrugged it off. She’d have to do a lot better than that. “It doesn’t look as though you’ll have a chance to talk to Sparkle for the rest of the day, so what will you do?”

  She pushed her hair away from her face. Beautiful dark hair—shiny and smooth with red highlights when the sunlight touched it. Not ordinary at all. Where had his mind been that first time?

  She shrugged. “Go back to my room and hope nothing unexpected pops in.” She shot him a pointed stare. “Oh, and read complaints.”

  Complaints? He didn’t need to know. “Since Sparkle won’t be available, I can fill in some of the blanks for you.” That was a dumb offer. Instead of wasting time with her, he should be scouting out an acceptable substitute to offer to the Sluagh Sidhe. But since she was still pissed at him for compelling her silence, she’d probably turn him down anyway.

  “Fine. I need information, and if you’re the only one who’ll give it to me…”

  She left the rest unsaid. The part where she swore she’d rather kiss the ogre than spend time with him. Too bad. He smiled.

  “But you’re not setting one foot in my room. And I don’t want to go to your room either.”

  “Afraid to be alone with me?”

  “Afraid of being trapped with you.”

  Murmur nodded. “Fair enough. I have a place we can talk without interruptions.” He wouldn’t shatter her illusion. She couldn’t run fast enough or far enough to escape his music if he wanted her. Okay, maybe a good set of earplugs might help.

  But as she followed him through the great hall, she spotted Holgarth. He was busy harassing the castle employees who were helping to set the room up for tonight’s fantasies. She headed toward him. Damn.

  She stopped in front of the wizard. “I want to talk to you for a few minutes.”

 
Holgarth stared pointedly at his watch. “I suppose a few minutes spent in meaningless chatter won’t unduly upset my schedule.”

  “I don’t give a damn about your schedule.”

  The wizard blinked and glanced at Murmur.

  Murmur shrugged and hummed quietly to himself. He turned his head to stare at the workers so Holgarth wouldn’t see his smile.

  “If I’m going to work here, I want to know about everything that could impact my job. Sparkle and Asima are over in the candy store right now giving new meaning to the term cat fight.”

  “Really? I don’t know quite how to respond to that.” The wizard had lost his supercilious sneer.

  “You don’t need to respond. Sparkle said something that made me think you were involved, and since she’s my boss and Asima made it a point to visit me, I want to know the story.”

  For a moment, Murmur thought Holgarth wouldn’t answer her. Then he simply nodded.

  “The goddess Isis and I spent a brief time together. Since I knew she would never choose to stay with me, I left her first. For centuries I kept my whereabouts hidden from her.” His gaze turned distant. “I don’t know why. Fear of her wrath because I deserted her? Fear that my feelings for her would make me do something foolish? It’s quite amazing how much of what we do or don’t do in life is driven by fear.”

  He seemed to shrug off thoughts of the past as he focused on Ivy once again. “Asima met Isis and told her where to find me. The goddess showed up here and told me that I had a son. Zane.” His expression softened. Once again, Holgarth seemed lost in his own thoughts. “All those wasted years when I could have known him. I was so utterly stupid. So you see, I don’t know how I feel about Asima. She betrayed my whereabouts to Isis, but without her I might never have realized that Zane was mine.”

  The story wasn’t quite that simple, but Murmur wanted to get Ivy to himself, so he allowed the telling to stand. “Now that you know, we need to let Holgarth do his job.”

  Ivy seemed thoughtful as she followed Murmur from the great hall and down a long hallway lit by sconces with fake flickering candlelight.

  When they entered the small chapel, Ivy looked shocked. “A church? You can really be on consecrated ground without going poof?”