Title: Song of the Siren

Author: Twilightstaruby

Disclaimers: All Night World concepts belongs to L.J.Smith. Kiele and the other characters in the story belong to me.

I never really had a chance to thank all those people who reviewed for moi nor answer their questions, so here they are:

:untilhellfreezesover: Shadrach does have something to do with the dream on the second chapter. In fact, i could tell you that he is the guy in the dream. But that is all i am going to tell you. You will have to read yourselfto find out!

:Piscean Wisdom: it isn't Shadrach's voice in the dream. that is all i can tell you. you will have to read on to find out about the soulmate link, whether it does exists between Shadrach and Kiele. that is all i can tell at this point of time.

:And thanks to people like incarnated-soul, ValeskanyaxXx, Tika, Dark Angel's Blue Fire, NaruKami, babe in black, Calisia girl, Dogs die in hot cars and shane's galfor reviewing for the song of the sieren and for Chryseis too. Thanks a lot guys!

Hope you will enjoy this chapter! And pls remember to review!

The Siren waits thee, singing song for song.
- Walter Savage Landor (1775-1864), To Robert Browning.

Chapter Five

Shadrach was in an extremely bad mood .He blamed it all on a certain vampire slayer with bewitching violet eyes currently locked in his dungeon four stories beneath him. Disturbing dreams haunted him throughout the night, causing his lack of sleep and thus inadvertently put him in an extremely bad mood.

He pinned the hapless vampire that stood in front of his desk with a glacier stare that would make a plant wither on the spot and asked in a soft dangerous tone," Didn't I specifically stated that no one is to bother me today?"

"Bu-but sir! The Council-" He never got to finish before Shadrach interrupted him in a tone that bode not well for the poor messenger.

"Get out of my sight and tell those tight-ass leeches that I do things my own way or I'll do them not at all!"

The vampire sketched a hasty retreat out of the office with a terrified yelp at the menace in Shadrach's tone. Seething with fury at the meddlesome Night World Council, he picked up the decanter of whiskey that lay near his elbow, planning to drown off his fury, but before he could do so, the door opened again to reveal the pale strained face of the messenger.

"Can I rephrase that, sir?"

Shadrach let out an unholy snarl and threw the glass of decanter he held in his hand right at the messenger's head. The door slammed shut just in time as the decanter smashed into the door, spilling amber liquid and glass shards onto the lush carpeted floor below.

The door opened again but this time, Shadrach was deprived of anything near his hand to throw. Angelo strolled casually into the room, unperturbed by the fact that Shadrach was looking murderous enough to kill him despite their long-standing friendship and past together. Dressed casually and comfortably in black, with a single diamond stud in his left ear, Angelo looked every inch like the dangerous, and arrogant creature of the dark he was born as.

Sparing a glance at the mess on the door and the stained carpet, he inquired pleasantly, "What bit you, Silverthorn? Or the more likely scenario is what did you bite?"

"Doesn't anyone in this goddamn monster excuse of a building understand English?" Shadrach snarled in frustration. The last thing he wanted to do now was to be in anyone's company. He had purposely told his secretary that he wanted to be alone, but apparently, the dimwit didn't understand him. He will pay for it later, Shadrach promised grimly.

"If it comforts you, Silverthorn, I can speak fluently in five languages, English being one of them." Angelo grinned as he seated himself comfortably in the chair opposite Shadrach.

."Then what is so difficult about understanding a few simple English words that specify I wished to be left alone for today?" the last word came out as a hiss as Shadrach fought to keep his anger in check.

Angelo suddenly became very interested in the spilled whiskey. "Pity about the whiskey. Such a waste."

"Angelo." Shadrach's tone held a warning tone.

"Christian Gabriel Shadrach." Angelo returned nonchalantly, his cobalt blue eyes twinkling in amusement as he caught Shadrach's wince.

"How many times have I told you not to call me that? I sound like some…some paragon of God," He spat out in disgust.

"When you are really the spawn of the Devil?" Angelo put in.

The frosty glare Shadrach sent him told Angelo that the paragon of God did not find his rejoinder funny at all.

"You never answered my question, Silverthorn. Why the black mood?"

He noted the narrowing of those steely grey eyes but ignored the warning.

"You are like a dog with a bone, you know Angelo? Tenacious to the point it is irritating."

Angelo let the insults slid past him. "It is the slayer, isn't it?"

He knew he had hit home when Shadrach's shoulders stiffened, his eyes narrowing even more.

"What if I tell you it isn't?" Shadrach returned carefully.

"I can always get the truth, willingly or by force. Though I hate to do it by the later, I would nonetheless do it if I have to." Angelo said it quietly. Shadrach knew that Angelo, for his entire happy-go-lucky exterior, was a powerful telepath whose prowess exceeded even that of his.

"So?" Angelo prompted gently when silence fell a moment too long.

"Yes, it has to do with her. So what?" He snapped bad-temperedly, feeling cornered.

"Nothing. I promised before that I will never interfere in your affairs, and neither will you in mine and I am not about to change that. However, do take care my friend. The council isn't as blind as you think them to be. If she gets you into trouble, be forewarned that I will not hesitate to bring her in to the council myself." Angelo concluded resuming his slouch as he flashed a smile at Shadrach.

"You are starting to do a good imitation of a possessive boyfriend, Angelo." Only the cutting edge of his tone gave any indication of Shadrach's annoyance at his friend. His face was back into the impassive mask that he showed to his subordinates everyday. It told Angelo that his friend did not appreciate his interference in his matters.

"I can assure you that I am straight, Silverthorn. You can always feel free to ask Druscilla." A flash of that lazy, catlike smile dawned on Angelo's face.

"Your most recent paramour, Angelo?" Shadrach asked dryly.

Angelo let out a snort of amusement before he replied," We use 'lover' nowadays, Silverthorn. God, 'paramour'. That is so 1800s."

Before he could retort though, the door flew open. A semi-conscious vampire limped in, his hand wrapped around his bleeding shoulder where a wooden stake protruded out grotesquely in an attempt to stem the bleeding.

"Sir, the slayers have escaped. All of them." He panted out with obvious exertion before he fell into a dead faint on top of the shattered decanter.