Hell's Belle
Page 8
The consciousness and body are irrevocably connected, unable to survive a lengthy separation. If one lost its way, the mind would stay here until the body eventually died, so I tried to hurry. But every thread led to a dead end. I stayed that way much longer than intended, unable to give up when the next piece of signature held such promise. I moved from one to another to another until I’d scoured the majority of ley-lines in The Burg, NOLA, and the coast. I didn’t stop until I felt the string connecting me to my body faintly tug. Something, or someone, was calling me. My mind turned, looking at the swirling colors. So beautiful. So mesmerizing.
So deadly.
Everything began to blur in a kaleidoscope, impossibly more chaotic than normal. If I were on the physical plane, my vision would be hazy from weariness. I saw with a dawning horror the truth of my situation. I’d waited too long. Or nearly so.
My magic was taxed beyond its limits. I was weak, so weak. The link between my mind and body was steadily growing thinner. If I didn’t hurry, it would continue shrinking until it snapped. Then both my mind and body would waste away.
I desperately searched for my way back, surfing the lines for what seemed like forever, trying to follow my own dim thread. The magical plane was ever-changing, its magic fluid. Landmarks didn’t exist here, which was why it was unwise to take these journeys alone. I knew better than to disregard the rules. Don’t panic. Stopping, I metaphorically took several deep breaths. Soaring above the plane, I pivoted in circles, looking for something tangible, something to lead me home again. I’d nearly given up hope when I spotted a splash of pulsating silver, shining true and pure even from a distance. There was something familiar about that magic.
Weaving through swirls of reds, blues, greens, so many other magics, I moved ever closer. Even far away, the silver magic prickled warm against skin I no longer had. The closer I came, the more my magic reacted. It was warm and welcoming. I began to tingle. I tried to be cautious, to approach the light slowly. But I was a drowning woman seeing a ray of sun pierce the dark waters. My need to survive took over, rushing my mind into the light without consent.
My consciousness returned to my body, and I gasped, eyes popping open, disoriented and dizzy from adjusting to so few colors, so little light.
“Careful, breathe slowly.”
I looked into concerned eyes, glowing silver. Jacq held me close, speaking urgently but softly in my ear. It was her. Jacq had drawn me back. My hand was still gently cradled in hers. No longer at my side, she’d wedged herself between my body and the table, our bodies wrapping around each other. My other hand was still on the maps while her free arm circled my waist. And until I’d leaned back to see her face, my head had been tucked under her chin. I took another deep breath, realizing my knees had buckled, possibly hours ago. Jacq had been, and was still, supporting me.
“It’s okay. You’re safe,” she murmured, releasing my hand to push my hair away from my face. Her glowing fingers moved, caressing over my cheek, leaving trails of hot magic behind. I couldn’t look away from her eyes. Black with silver streaks, they held something I didn’t want to consider.
Finally I broke eye contact, but the image of those glowing orbs, like silver lightning piercing a dark sky, lingered in my mind. I needed to pull myself together. I was practically clinging to the woman. Her hands moved to my waist, and before I could protest, Jacq carried me to a chair.
As she eased me down, I smiled up in thanks, taking the opportunity to study her. Jacq’s mask of calm detachment had been replaced by genuine concern. I was too physically drained for the phers to matter, but a moment before as she’d held me close, I’d still noticed her warmth, her musky scent, her low, sensual voice. Okay, so this went beyond chemical lust. The sensations had been…nice. You heard me. Nice. That was my story, and I was sticking to it.
Jacq passed me a glass of water. I took a sip, joking, “Magic was a bust. Old-school it is.”
She didn’t respond, instead pulling up a chair. All I could see was the crown of her auburn head as she looked down, gently chafing my hands. Her knees felt comforting resting outside my own. My skin, now tingling as her hands rubbed mine, seemed dark against her pale rosiness. Jacq was no longer intentionally zinging me with her magic, but it continued to brush mine. In that moment before my consciousness had merged with my body, we’d connected, leaving me, and no doubt her too, with a strange sense of oneness that would eventually fade.
Or so I assumed. I was on unfamiliar ground. I’d done this many times with my family and never had this experience. I wasn’t sure what to do, but touching seemed like a bad idea. I tried to pull away, but Jacq ignored my attempts to remove my hands from hers, simply saying, “You’re freezing.” I felt another zing of heat. This one left me feeling somewhat more energized as my body soaked it in. “You didn’t mention how weak this would leave you. And,” she nearly growled, “don’t think that I don’t know how dangerous that was.” She let out an exasperated sigh.
Her eyes, once again gray, met mine. Her scolding wasn’t as severe as Aunt Helena’s would’ve been, but the emotion in those eyes… It was more effective than any lecture I’d ever received. I had been taking more risks lately—flying solo when it was easy to ask Mynx for help. I’d been unusually reckless, almost wild with the urge to stand on the edge of that cliff, and was at a loss to explain why, even to myself.
“I’ll be fine.” I managed to pull my hands free, tucking them under my armpits. “I’ll take a warm shower and be as good as new. Then we need to check out Isabella’s apartment and conduct interviews. The longer it takes to find her, the more danger she’s in.” I tried to stand but fell back.
Jacq looked me over with another frown. “No.” She offered a hand, pulled me to my feet. “I’ll go to town. We need to sweep Isabella’s apartment anyway, and you’re in no condition to use more magic. Why don’t you stay here and track down the boyfriend.”
“That’s fine.” I sighed, sitting back down. At her questioning look I explained, “You can go. I’ll wait here until I have the power to open the wards.” I hated to admit that my magic was that low, but I wasn’t about to lie either.
“I’ll help you into the house.” She answered my unspoken question, “Mynx temporarily keyed me to the wards, so I could come and go without an escort.”
Mynx didn’t make rash decisions. How had Jacq earned her trust so quickly? I was consumed by irrational jealousy. Had Jacq charmed and been charmed by my beautiful friend? I looked away, trying to hide the foreign feelings, which faded as I saw a candle burned down to a small puddle of wax in the dim corner. It wasn’t just cats and cat-women that were easily charmed by this woman. I’d made my own spur-of-the-moment decision, putting my life in her hands while traveling through the magical plane. And she’d proved herself worthy of that trust. But would she continue to do so?
As we walked the path leading from the agency offices to the main house, we revised our plan. Or rather, Jacq revised. I focused on placing one foot in front of the other. The stubborn woman wanted me to lean on her arm. And I was as determined to walk on my own. For the last three years I’d managed perfectly without having someone to walk me to my door. No point in getting comfortable any other way. The woman at my side would walk away when this case was over, and I’d still be here, walking this path alone, returning home.
* * *
After taking a scorching hot soak I felt nearly human. I wasn’t sure when heat had become fuel. It’d happened so gradually over the last few years, generally only occurring a few days a month, that at first I’d barely noticed. But recently there’d been a big jump. Too bad this hadn’t worked several days ago. Today at least I could charge my drained batteries.
I could survive without the heat, but I thrived with it, the absorbed energy speeding up my metabolism, healing me, satisfying a deep hunger I couldn’t explain. It also helped metabolize the phers more quickly. When around the Weres, that was a bad thing—the increased metabolism also increasing
my absorption rate. But when alone, it helped burn out the phers already in my system.
I headed back downstairs to begin my research. Luckily, Jacq had carried my laptop and files into the house, leaving them and Isabella’s phone as requested on the kitchen counter. The hot water had helped, but I was still weak, making it unwise to venture to my office outside the wards’ protection. The house was empty and quiet, though there was still a warm kettle on the stove and the lingering scent of sage and sandalwood in the air.
Before I started my calls, I looked over the background Henry had given me. Kyle was a student at Tulane and had been in a night class at the time of Isabella’s call, leaving there to go to work, unaware of his girlfriend’s disappearance until Henry’s call.
I powered up Isabella’s cell. First, I tried the mobile number, which went straight to voice mail. I thought about calling Luke but didn’t know what type of Were Kyle was. There were hundreds scattered throughout this area. The chances were slim that Luke would know him. I dialed Kyle’s work number. No way was he tending bar. I knew from experience: If someone you loved went missing, you didn’t go back to business as usual the next day. But they might know how to find him.
A gruff voice answered, “Blue Moon Club.” That surprised me. The Blue Moon was run by the Alpha of all the local Were Clans. If Kyle was working there, he wasn’t any moon-howler but someone close to their leader.
“Yes, I’m looking for Kyle Thompson. Is he in?” I went for professional, but all I got for my trouble was a snarl. “Excuse me? I didn’t catch that.”
“Hold on, lady, I’ll check.” I held for ten minutes. I was about to hang up and call back when the call was transferred without warning. It rang and another voice answered.
“Yes?” The woman’s musical voice was perfectly modulated. She didn’t sound like a twenty-something male Were whose girlfriend had possibly been kidnapped by a sorcerer bent on world-domination (or something else as trite). I slapped my hand against the table. Knowing my luck, the snarling man had transferred me to a random stranger for shits and giggles.
“Hi, this is Cate Delacy. I’m looking for Kyle Thompson.” There was silence on the line.
“Kyle’s not here, right now.” She stopped.
“It’s urgent that I speak with him. Is there a better time I could call?” Again silence, this time too bare of sound. She’d put the phone on mute.
“Kyle’s been detained on Pack business. He should be available tomorrow night. Be at the club at eleven.” Her tone left no room for discussion.
Were the Alpha’s people covering for Kyle? Or had Isabella’s boyfriend found his own set of troubles? I gave my thanks, jotting down her directions.
I sat staring dumbly at my notes. Tomorrow was Thursday. I was going to walk into a nightclub full of hundreds of horny Weres putting out seas of lust pheromones, and there was no way that Detective Jacqueline Slone would sit this dance out.
I was so screwed.
* * *
Jacq returned as I was preparing dinner, dashing my dream of a little alone time…or so I told myself, ignoring the part of me that was happy to see her again. I’d sorted through Isabella’s phone looking for red herrings. But nothing had seemed out of place. And there had been no connection to any of Bob’s or the other girls’ contacts. I’d called Jacq with the names, numbers and locations of everyone our missing girl had spoken with recently. Then I’d spent the afternoon poring over fact sheets on Bob Rainey and all the dead girls. I’d gone over every photo meticulously, staring at the mess until my eyes crossed.
I desperately needed to get away from all that death for a few hours. There was a comfy couch and a DVD waiting for me in the den. Until Jacq had shown up, I’d had the house to myself. My aunt had gone back to New Orleans to visit friends and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning. I hadn’t been alone with Aunt Helena since my meeting with Fera. I suspected she was avoiding me, maybe sensing my need to talk about my mother’s previous disappearance. And Mynx was out, doing surveillance for her own run.
During our call, Jacq had said she’d return to compare notes, but when she hadn’t arrived by dusk, I’d thought she’d gone back to NOLA. Her knock on the kitchen door nearly made me jump out of my skin. I reached to turn down the upbeat country station I’d been blasting while puttering around the kitchen and gestured for her to enter. The doors stayed unlocked when the wards were up. Anything that could get through our wards wouldn’t be stopped by a bit of wood.
“Have you eaten?” I asked, removing my head from the fridge. I set my ingredients on the counter. Jacq, looking as alluring as ever in her now unbuttoned vest, was back in her usual chair. Had she been staring at my ass? Must be my imagination, because her eyes were fixed on the range top.
“No.”
Uh-oh, one word answers were never good. Her expression was remote, but I detected a hopeful glint in her eyes. Poor woman. She was probably starving after traipsing all over The Burg.
“Would you like some dinner? I’m just putting together a quick salad. Nothing fancy.” I pointed to the chicken left from lunch. My Grams would rise from her grave and beat me with her cane if I didn’t offer food to a dinnertime guest. Jacq smiled at the offer. She thought I was being solicitous. She had no idea. It was purely self-preservation.
“You’d cook for me?” Her Cajun accent was stronger than usual.
My head tilted slightly. She sounded a bit smug, as if I’d just offered her all my worldly possessions. Maybe I had. Some of the more obscure species had some pretty strange practices.
“Well, cook might be an exaggeration. I’m simply reheating the chicken and putting everything in a bowl.” I moved about the kitchen, throwing the chicken and a splash of water on the electric grill before piling the greens in two big bowls, topping them with nuts, berries, feta, and the now steaming chicken, finally drizzling everything with balsamic. I put the bowls down, turning to face her.
“Would you like to watch a movie with me?” Where had that come from? “I mean, we can talk over the case while we eat…” I stammered, unable to meet her eyes. “I’d planned to watch a movie, a dark comedy. Join me?”
Jacq smiled fully, that elusive dimple peeking out. “I’d love to.” Her response was low, husky.
I shivered. It was good that I was done talking, because her smile left me suddenly breathless. I sucked in a much-needed breath, helpless to stop my own smile as we picked up our salads and moved into the other room. What can I say? I was easily pleased and, apparently, so was Jacq.
I was still smiling later as we finished talking business and put on the movie, Army of Darkness. Drinks in hand, we sat side by side on the couch, our bare feet propped up on the old trunk and a big bowl of popcorn between us. I’d known this woman for less than twenty-four hours and was now treating her like a long-lost friend. As we laughed at the main character’s cheesy one-liners, I couldn’t help but think that if crazy is as crazy does, then I might better check into an asylum. It wasn’t the fact that I seemed to be going insane that worried me. It was that I really didn’t care to stop.
* * *
Carlisle shivered in the dark. Already dead and coldblooded, it wasn’t from the temperature. He’d never liked these clandestine meetings. He was a politician, not some military type to slither along in the shadows. To add insult, the demon lord’s earthbound contact was always late. Nicodemus, as he called himself, liked to make an entrance. Although an abandoned building probably wasn’t his preferred setting nor Carlisle and a few rodents his preferred audience. Concessions had to be made in the name of secrecy. But that would all end soon.
“Report!”
Carlisle jumped at Nicodemus’s booming voice. He was an Immortal, for pity’s sake, high-ranking in the house of Louisiana’s Vampire King. But Carlisle’s status didn’t matter to Nicodemus. He and his distortion charm always got a sadistic enjoyment out of making everyone in his presence cower. Even with Carlisle’s supernatural eyesight, he could barely
discern the shadow passing through an outside streetlamp’s glow. The spell was the best he’d ever seen, even hiding Nicodemus’s body heat. Carlisle whirled to face the shadow, cringing at the two sets of red eyes blinking at him from the darkness. Hellhounds. He hated it when Nicodemus brought those beasts with him. Many times larger and more vicious than their Earthen counterparts, the hounds always looked half-starved, making them too hungry to be trusted.
“My spies followed Guild Master Fera to a local bar, where she met an independent runner.” Carlisle sounded cool, collected. He’d had centuries to mask his fear, to connive his way into power. He wouldn’t give it up so easily. “It appears the runner was hired to begin her own investigation. The name’s Cate. My spies managed to get a cloth with her scent.” He held up a bar napkin and large envelope. “The information is all here. The Guild Master appears to have stalled in her investigation, but the runner concerns me.” He’d humor the weak Council’s attempt to appear more mundane in public, but he refused to use the human titles, such as Sheriff, in private. Things would eventually return to the old ways, where the Blood took what and who they wanted. And the change couldn’t happen soon enough for him.
“Good.” Nicodemus came forward, taking the items. “See that the Guild Master’s search continues to meet a dead end. My hounds will take care of the runner.” Lowering the cloth, he let the beasts catch the runner’s scent. Then he turned and disappeared, the hounds following behind. Even so, Nicodemus’s last words hung in the air. “The gate will open soon. My master will come through with his legions. And when we remake this world, your reward will be great.”