Siren Song by Cat Adams

Author:Cat Adams
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fantasy, Fiction, Paranormal, Contemporary
ISBN: 9780765364234
Publisher: Tor Books
Published: 2010-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Zipping open the gym bag, I found the lavender and white tracksuit my gran had bought me for my last birthday. Thinking of Gran made me sad. She was probably having a really hard time. God knows Mom has her flaws, but my gran loves her as only a mother can. Getting picked up again meant serious jail time. The good news, Mom might dry out, get into AA. But I‘d gotten my siren blood through her. If Dr. Marloe was correct—and I was pretty sure she was—sirens do not get on well with other women. Locking my mother in jail with hundreds of other women would be a recipe for disaster, no matter how richly she might deserve it. I wondered if we could use the Americans with Disabilities Act to mitigate her sentence. I didn‘t know, but I could at least mention it to my mother‘s attorney. Once she had one.

Once I was presentable, I went into the office and ate. I was just finishing when I heard the gentle double whump of a walker on stairs. Damn it, Dottie!

―That had better not be Dawna‘s new assistant coming up those steps. We have an agreement. No stairs,‖ I called out.

There was a pause and I was almost sure I heard soft laughter. ―I‘m going slow.‖

I growled with the last bit of chocolate mocha in my mouth. ―I‘ll come down.‖

Jumping out of my chair, I hurried out the door and down the hall. Dottie had stopped at the second-floor landing. Her walker could be used as sort of a chair when turned backward, and she was sitting comfortably, the light from the stained-glass window painting her with a vibrant rainbow of colors.

I sat on one of the steps facing her. ―You said no more stairs.‖

―No.‖ She smiled beatifically. ― You said no more stairs. I simply didn‘t argue.‖

That wasn‘t how I remembered it, but she might be right. Even if she was wrong, I knew she‘d just blame the faulty memory of old age and do what she wanted. I was beginning to realize just how hardheaded she could be and wondered if hiring her had been the best idea after all.

―I‘m the boss,‖ I reminded her.

―Yes, dear, you are,‖ she said in a tone that clearly said I wasn‘t—or that even if I was, it really didn‘t matter.

―I suppose you‘ve already made this trip once, bringing up my breakfast?‖ I gave her a stern look.

―No, that was Bubba. He insisted that if he did it, nobody would notice. If Mr. Creede had known you were right next door, asleep on the floor—well, you know he‘s quite taken with you.‖

―John was here?‖ It was a stupid question. But I‘d only just had my coffee. I didn‘t know what to think about the rest of her comment. But it did make me think well of Bubba that he hadn‘t said anything.

She nodded. ―Along with the client and his bodyguard. They spent the night. Ron seemed to recognize the man with Mr.

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