Sophia Elaine Hanson - Siren: Book Three of the Vinyl Trilogy

Title Page

SIREN: Book Three of the Vinyl Trilogy

ISBN-10: 1-7321376-0-9

ISBN-13: 978-1-7321376-0-8

Editor: Katherine Catmull

Cover Design: Docshot

Printing: Createspace

Print and eBook Formatting: Heather Adkins

Copyright 2018 Calida Lux Publishing

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition being imposed on the purchaser.

For those who find a home in music

Character Sketches

SIREN

Part One: The Burning Ones

Prologue: The Gift

Evie

T here was a certain peace in giving up. Peace was not something Evelyn Wick was familiar with. On her first night in prison, she pounded on the door and rattled the bars of her window, trying to pry one from its niche. She cursed the Offs who delivered tasteless food. They did not appear to hear her. Maybe they didnt. Singers clung to their ears, pouring The New Music into their minds. Who knew what it did to warp their reality?

Eventually, her voice grew hoarse. A deep ache filled her lungs. She took to prowling the perimeter of her cell, searching for an exit that did not exist. All the while, her thoughts spun webs in her skull. Iris. Samson. Ronja. Roark. Henry. Terra. Mouse.

Iris.

When the Offs came to collect her after what felt like weeks, Evie was ready for them. She fought dirty, going for the eyes and throat. Her knuckles were bruised and her lip split by the time they forced her to the floor. Two of them pinned her while the third regarded her with a detached expression, hemorrhaging from his busted nose.

She had first noticed it in the warehouse. The Offs with the red emblems on their uniforms did not react to pain. They were either the toughest bunch of bastards she had ever met, or The New Music was numbing them. That meant they would have to die if they were to be stopped.

That was perfectly fine with Evie.

They dragged her, writhing and swearing, from her cell and down a long corridor. The hall reminded her of Red Bay, only darker. Older. The stone walls leaked. There was no electricity, only gas lamps. Eventually, they reached a metal door marked XVI. Evie committed the number to memory.

One of the Offs opened the door with a screech. It was pitch-black inside, cold as the canals in winter. Her captors shoved her in and slammed the door. Evie stumbled, throwing her hands out in front of her. Someone caught her by the shoulders. She would know that touch anywhere.

Iris! Evie gasped, reaching out blindly to draw her to her chest. Iris melted into her, shivering. Are you all right? Did they hurt you?

The surgeon gave a wordless shake of her head. Evie exhaled in relief and allowed her knees to give. They followed each other to the ground.

Are you okay? Iris rasped. Evie could almost taste how parched she was. Have you seen anyone?

No, the techi replied hollowly. No one.

Me either. Ive been alone this whole time. I thought I was going to go crazy. I thought... She choked on a sob.

Shhh... Evie rocked Iris back and forth, smoothing her stiff curls. They had grown since she last touched them. They had been apart for far too long. I know, I know.

Why are they keeping us alive? Iris asked. What are they playing at?

Evie did not reply. They both knew the answer to that question: they were insurance. As long as they were alive, Ronja would do whatever Maxwell said to keep them safe. Even if that meant becoming his weapon of conquest. If were alive, so is Ronja, Evie assured Iris in a low voice, keenly aware that the room was likely bugged. As long as shes alive, we have a chance.

A chance for what? Iris whispered urgently. Its all over. The Anthem, the radio, the revolution. All of it.

The door banged open, bathing the Anthemites in searing light. Iris stifled a scream. Evie drew her closer, snarling up at the silhouettes in the frame. Before she could climb to her feet, two figures were shoved inside and the door shut with a clang. Whos that? Evie demanded.

Good to see you too, Wick.

The techi felt her heart stutter. Terra?

And me, came a bored masculine voice.

Mouse? Iris squeaked, disentangling herself from Evie and scrambling to her feet. The techi followed suit, squinting into the void. She couldnt see an inch, much less across the cell.

Unfortunately, Mouse replied.

Are you all right? Evie asked. She took a cautious step forward. Are you hurt?

Terra grunted. Ill be fine. Just a little crispy.

Evie smiled tightly. The last time she had seen Terra, she had been unconscious on the floor of the clock tower, brought down by a stinger to the spine. She certainly sounded better, but Evie had learned not to take anything Terra said at face value.

I ran out of toilet paper a week ago, Mouse told them glumly.

Just be grateful youre still in good enough shape to worry about your ass, Evie replied. What have you got, Terra?

Not enough, she answered tersely. From the architecture Id guess were somewhere in the core, maybe beneath the palace. Dozens of guards, all under The New Music. No exits in sight.

The Offs, Iris spoke up in a small voice. They act like machines, like theyre not even human.

The space grew colder in the wake of her words. Someone sniffled forlornly, probably Mouse. Evie hugged her arms to her chest. She had never doubted the claims Ronja and Roark made about The New Music, but seeing it in action was more terrifying than she could have imagined.

Dulling emotions was one thing. Obliterating them was another.

Guys, Mouse asked. What are we doing here?

The earsplitting screech of an intercom coming to life answered before they could. An excellent question, Mr. Constantine. A chill lanced through Evie at the sound of the strange, loping voice.

Maxwell Bullon, she growled. Show yourself, you coward.

Are you really in a position to be demanding things of me? the disembodied voice of the tyrant inquired silkily. But I suppose I would like to be able to see your faces. It will make this so much more interesting.

Evie felt her pupils contract as bright light flooded the space. She shielded her eyes, blinking rapidly to gather sight. They had been crammed into a claustrophobic cell made entirely of glass. A large speaker was mounted in one corner, a whirring video camera in the other. Beyond the translucent walls was a featureless room with a domed ceiling and curved black walls. There was not a soul in sight.

Iris pressed closer to Evie, who looked down at her in vague wonderment. A part of her had begun to believe she would never see her again. Even covered in grime, her features shaded with exhaustion and fear, Iris was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

What the hell is this? Terra snarled up at the camera. She had lost a considerable amount of weight. Her long blond hair was stiff with grease and bluish circles had formed under her sharp eyes. Where are the others?

Evie felt her stomach clench. How had she not noticed? Roark was not with them. She had expected Maxwell to keep his precious Siren locked away, but if he wanted all his bait in one place, why had he left out the most important piece?

Your comrades are otherwise occupied, Maxwell finally answered, his voice brushed with static and something else. Something Evie could not place. Before she could dissect it, Bullon continued. I have brought you here today to present you with a gift.