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Hell's Belle

Page 17

by Marie Castle


  Even so, I’d liked Darryl and his alter-ego, Lady D, and later introduced him to my old friend, Buck LaRue. They’d been together ever since. We visited often, but it had been awhile since I’d entered the club. Whips and chains weren’t my thing…unless I was the one wielding them.

  “Waiting for what?” Fera asked impatiently, dragging me from my thoughts. I was saved from having to answer by Buck’s entrance. He was the only man I knew who could wear black leather pants and a black T-shirt with a Stetson and cowboy boots. The man oozed sex appeal. Fera’s tail practically wagged as she jerked her feet off Jacq’s lap and moved closer to the other woman, making room on the couch. For a several-hundred-years-old woman, she sure was transparent. If I didn’t already know she was Fae, I’d think she was a cat in heat like Mynx. Little did she realize that a woman would never turn Buck’s head, which was a definite loss for the fairer sex. Buck’s sexiness was matched only by his boyish charm. That second characteristic was responsible for the large tub of buttered popcorn he carried. You could trust Buck to turn anything into entertainment.

  “Down girl,” I said as Buck sat beside me, tipped back his cowboy hat, and began to launch popcorn into the air, catching it with his mouth. Fera watched avidly. Buck seemed clueless to her reaction. I smiled inwardly, knowing better. I might be numb inside, but my friend’s antics chipped away at the ice covering my soul. Buck’s mischievous streak was just another thing that made us such good friends. “His man will tear out your heart and eat it.”

  Buck laughed. “No, honey, you forget. Darryl feeds them their own hearts as he watches.” He winked, popping another piece of popcorn before adding, “My sweetie’s a vegetarian.” Stuffed jaws working hard to chew his snack, he looked around at the different monitors, completely missing Jacq’s amused and Fera’s disappointed expressions. The latter was understandable. No one would ever think Buck was gay by looking at him. With a dark tan, sun-streaked hair and green eyes, he was a good ole—sexy as hell—country boy. I’d always thought Buck was what happened when you mixed the Dukes of Hazzard with Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. But Fera’s reaction was nothing compared to what happened when people saw him and Darryl together. Buck was the perfect foil for his much darker lover.

  I was still empty inside, but Buck’s joy of life was always infectious. A small spark lit somewhere within me. And seeing Fera’s attention shift so quickly had left me feeling something—perhaps, something more generous—toward Jacq, but it was hard to tell. The emotion was only a seed of something that would hopefully grow larger as the night progressed.

  Jacq wasn’t the type to let a lover stray. Whatever her relationship with Fera, it didn’t include benefits of a sexual nature. I snuck a look at the woman in question. She’d worn cream pants and a matching sleeveless top that made her skin glow and her auburn hair look even darker. Her closed expression had opened slightly since Buck’s entrance. She now watched me with half-lidded eyes. I quickly returned my gaze to my friend.

  Leaning his muscular frame back and extending an arm over the couch top, Buck asked redundantly, “Has the show started yet?”

  He still had the athletic build of the quarterback he’d once been. I inhaled his spicy cologne and moved until I leaned against his shoulder. Buck was like a brother to me. Being near him was always comforting. And I knew he enjoyed it, too. Outside of Buck’s immediate family, I was the only person who could cuddle Lady D’s man without ending up in traction.

  “What show?” Fera wouldn’t be stopped.

  That little seed of hope inside me had managed to sprout, even in the icy plains of my heart. Where before I hadn’t cared, now part of me wanted to hear Jacq’s husky voice instead of Fera’s sultry one. As I saw the vampire walk into the room below followed by Mynx in her black leather cat-suit, I thought I might hear my auburn-haired protector comment. Unfortunately, it was Fera who rounded on me.

  “What in the hell? What is that vamp lackey, what’s his name?” Fera snapped her fingers. “Carlisle. What’s he doing here?” Her angry tone turned humorous as Mynx began to slowly undress the hypnotized man. “You better not have brought me to some sort of sex show without warning. I’d have dressed more appropriately.”

  Fera looked nice in black trousers and a gold shirt that brought out the gold in her many-hued hair, so I assumed “more appropriately” meant showing more skin. The question sounded rhetorical, so I didn’t answer. That was a mistake, because then Fera’s gaze shifted from the now nude man to my face. Even my numb emotions couldn’t completely block my sense of propriety.

  “Why is she blushing?” No longer inquisitive, Fera had the demanding voice of someone who had a mass of highly trained spooks at her beck and call.

  What a perfect time for the playful Fera to disappear and the commanding sheriff to appear. I was about to tell her to piss off when Buck, in traditional Screw-You-LaRue fashion, chimed in. Too bad, it was always his friends that got screwed.

  “The Ice Princess has always been a bit of a prude. Haven’t you, sweetie?” He nudged my shoulder, not giving me a moment to answer—not that my doubly embarrassed mouth could. “She swore she wouldn’t even have sex until she got married.” He laughed. I cringed. “I bet Deveroux popped that cherry good when you and he—ow!”

  Even my frozen soul knew better than to let him continue talking. Just as he was about to say “got hitched,” I shifted, and my elbow accidentally ended up in his groin. My one-week marriage to Luke had been annulled years ago. If only I could wipe that mistake from everyone’s minds as easily as it had been removed from the state’s records.

  “Shhh, listen.” I pointed at the glass floor.

  Mynx’s, “Now, tell me about Nicodemus,” filtered through the sound system. All eyes riveted to the scene unfolding below. The white room fell blissfully silent, the only questions coming from Mynx as she worked her other form of magic—the sort that only needed razor-sharp claws, pointy teeth and a smile that said she enjoyed her work. Part of it was the cat’s instinct to play with her prey, but Mynx had once confessed that her natural urges had taken a much darker turn after entering Hexamina’s body. I shuddered. Sometimes I wondered about the things Hex had done with that body to have torture feel so natural to the woman now abiding there.

  It was a little disappointing how quickly everything went. The stoolie squealed like a girl. Then he told everything he knew, which wasn’t much. Carlisle’s job was to watch Fera and the Council and report back. He’d been the one to target Bob for possession but didn’t know what the embezzled funds were being used for. He’d been told to pick someone with access to money and had chosen someone in-house to screw over his boss, Louisiana’s Vampire King.

  Carlisle confirmed Nicodemus was working for one of the Demon Lords but wasn’t sure which one. Nicodemus had always worn his distortion cloak. According to Carlisle, no one knew Nicky-boy’s true face. He’d simply shown up in town one day and started making friends. Carlisle thought he was the only one within the Council’s circle but couldn’t be sure.

  Apparently, Nicodemus’s demon master was preparing an army to cross over very soon from one of the Otherworld’s seven levels. Like a B-movie, the traitorous Carlisle had been promised a place in the new world order. Most of this we’d already surmised. Confirmation was good but not why we were here.

  Between screams, Carlisle finally gave up something useful. He didn’t know the final sacrifice’s location, but he confirmed Isabella was the intended victim. Nicodemus had used Carlisle’s spies to scout her apartment. Carlisle had been the one to have Tulane’s registrar hacked, personally picking the five boys based upon Nicodemus’s specs: Orphans with a special blood type. Nicodemus hadn’t specified male or female. The vamp just hated to waste good pussy. The blood requirement was mystifying. Why would it matter? The blood sucker now gnashing his teeth in desperation didn’t know.

  Blood was often used in the darker rituals, but the boys all had other links. Having them the same blood type would c
reate a common chain, making them easier to control. But why stipulate this particularly rare type instead of a more common one? It limited Nicodemus’s possible vessels, making his goal that much harder. I couldn’t even begin to guess. Carlisle also gave up the last target’s name. He’d been unable to find six human boys healthy enough in the school’s current medical files. The last vessel was a woman and due to be snatched very soon.

  “I have to go now, but don’t worry, suga.” Mynx ran the sharp tip of a claw down his cheek. “Someone will be along for you shortly.”

  Her words brought my attention from the bleeding, whimpering, but still intact (in all the areas he would consider vital) vampire to the woman now wiping her bloody hands clean on his tie. I frowned. I hadn’t realized Mynx was so near her heat. Blood and pain didn’t do it for her, but she wasn’t immune to the phers floating around the club. It must’ve been extremely hard for her not to rush the interrogation and go play.

  “What do you want me to do with him?”

  At Buck’s low question, I swung my eyes to him, noting that Fera was watching Mynx with a predatory gaze. I almost warned her away but stayed quiet. They were both big girls, and big girls could take care of themselves. “Cut out his tongue. Then give him to the Weres. The girl they targeted was mate to one of their wolves.”

  I released a long breath. I’d had enough blood for tonight. Lady D would probably do the deed herself, loving the opportunity to add a vamp tongue to her Voodoo pantry, assuming she didn’t already have one. “Call Luke. He’s their Alpha now and will know what to do.” Isabella was in the hands of a demon lord’s minion. The Weres would’ve been nicer to Carlisle if she were dead.

  I ignored Buck’s, “Ooo, Wolfie-boy’s been busy.”

  “The tongue will grow back.” Jacq’s husky voice shivered down my spine, and that seed in me grew, its roots cracking the ice around my soul. Jacq no longer looked angry, and when her gaze met mine, it was alight with speculation. Her concept of what I was capable of had just been upgraded.

  If only she knew.

  “I know, but it’ll be a day or more before he can speak. I don’t want Carlisle talking to the Weres until we’ve grabbed the girl. Nicodemus could also have spies within the Clan.” This was highly unlikely, but yesterday’s trusting mood had crashed and burned the moment I found out my mother and aunt had deceived me my entire life about my father being a demon…about me being part demon. Aunt Helena hadn’t mentioned my grandparents, but they had to have known. My sense of betrayal was all-encompassing. I paused, swiveling to Fera who’d picked up her cell. “What are you doing?” Like I didn’t already know. My harsh tone struck her like a whip.

  Her mouth said, “Calling my guys to pick up Nicodemus’s next target,” but her eyes said, “How dare you ask?”

  Icy fury surged, cracking the ice around my soul further. Fortunately, Jacq, ever the diplomat, jumped in.

  “We’ll get her, Josephine. Your agent just admitted he may not be the only one of yours working for Nicodemus. Having the girl picked up might put her in more danger.”

  “Fine.” Fera closed her cell with a loud snap. “If you no longer need me, I’m going downstairs.”

  “Fera?” I called. She stopped, turning abruptly, golden locks whipping around her head. Forcing my anger away, I reached under my white dress shirt and grabbed the envelope I’d tucked into my tight leather pants before throwing it to her. The envelope held the photos Mynx had taken of the men following Fera. “There are a few others that work for Carlisle, but please wait until we get Brittan before cleaning house.” Brittan was the name of Nicodemus’s last vessel.

  Fera gave a salute then left, putting on a sensual strut. She was no mouse, but her swaying hips said that without question her purpose for the rest of the night was to find a kitty and play. Buck followed her out, cell phone in hand. Jacq didn’t say a word, watching as I stepped to a hidden console, pulled aside a white panel, and began to push buttons.

  One switch caused a light buttercup carpet to roll over the glass mirror, blending seamlessly with the rest of the floor. Another cut the video feed. Yet another doused the sound. I began working with the video equipment, jumping when Jacq spoke from above my left shoulder.

  “What are you doing?” Her breath brushed my ear. She stood inches away, our bodies not touching, but I could feel her heat soaking into my back.

  “I’m copying the video to a DVD then erasing it from the system’s memory. Eventually, I may have to explain to the Council and Kin why one of theirs is dead.” Any legalities regarding gaining a confession under extreme duress wouldn’t apply here. Certain things were permissible with the undead. Not that something like this would ever end up in a human court of law. The Council and the Vamps had bloody appetites. They didn’t care about methods, only results—something I’d never liked about either group. It was frightening to think that in this case I agreed with them.

  I felt a kinship with Isabella Richmond. We were both women without mothers trying to deal with powers we didn’t understand. To get her back, I’d do whatever it took. Since my mother’s disappearance, I’d been bending and breaking the rules regularly. But soon a line would have to be drawn. The possibility of crossing that line didn’t scare me so much as not recognizing it when the time came.

  I pocketed the DVD and turned to Jacq, who nodded and moved to sit on the couch where Buck had been. She patted a cushion. “You never answered the earlier question.”

  Not the cherry-popping one. I could handle anything but a reference to Buck’s ill-timed, less than tactful, unfinished statement. My eyes rolled skyward as I silently prayed, Please don’t let it have something to do with me, Luke and sex. The goddess probably didn’t hear too many prayers with the word “sex” included. Hopefully, she’d take notice.

  “Which question?” Voice cracking, I moved to sit down. I’d been focused on getting through tonight. Now that the vampire’s “interview” was over, I felt my lack of sleep. I inhaled Jacq’s scent. Even though we hadn’t been around each other all day, I fancied her musk still carried a hint of orange. I rested my head against the white cushions.

  “You never said why you wanted Fera here tonight.” Jacq’s voice was low and smooth.

  I shifted, stalling as I considered my answer. We both stretched out our feet. Jacq mimicked Buck’s earlier posture, placing her arm across the couch top. Like with Buck, it was tempting to cuddle close. I hadn’t been close to anyone for so long. And eventually your skin simply hungers for the contact of another’s. I resisted my body’s need, focusing on her question.

  “Several reasons. Mynx wanted her here, and I thought it was worth taking the risk. Fera can see to having the leak taken care of personally, plus we had those photos of the man following her. This was the quickest, most discreet way to pass them along.”

  Jacq frowned. She didn’t buy my story. It was all true. Mynx did want Fera here, though I didn’t know why. But I’d left out the most important part. I wanted to see Jacq and Fera together, to judge for myself if there was anything between them. I closed my eyes and temporarily called a halt to my internal conflict. Barely voicing aloud something my mind didn’t want to consider, I said softly, “And I wanted her to know that I’m changing the rules.”

  “How so?” Jacq’s voice was just as soft.

  “We can’t do this alone. We need help.” I scooted a little closer, allowing myself to lean against her muscled shoulder. She murmured her assent. My earlier state of numbness aside, I wasn’t the Ice Princess Buck had called me. My confession at age seven that I would someday freeze my heart so it could never be broken had earned me the moniker. I’d given up that dream a long time ago, but the nickname had stuck.

  The day’s events had affected me, proving that even a frozen heart bleeds, so surely it was okay to seek a little comfort. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who felt that way, because Jacq silently pulled me closer, wrapped her arm around my shoulder, and eased her taller frame down so that her
head rested against mine. Without effort, I let myself drift into sleep. Maybe I could think of a new dream.

  It was too late to keep my heart on ice, anyway.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Tonight on Springer: Gnomes and the women who love them. We’ll begin with Sheryl. She’s been having an affair with her lawn gnome for nearly five years. Sheryl, tell us, when did you first realize you were attracted to pointy-hatted men?”

  “Come on, suga. It’s time for you to take Miss Hot Stuff and go on home.” A large hand gently shook my shoulder. “Unless, of course, you and her want to climb on up in that big bed there.” I recognized the deep voice but still awoke disoriented. It had been a long time since I’d slept so peacefully. “Lady D don’t mind none if y’all stay over.”

  I opened my eyes to find luscious chocolate irises and thick lashes staring back at me. I smiled, feeling not quite as cold inside. It truly was a shame that Darryl played for the other team. With his light brown skin, big eyes and slender swimmer’s build, he’d made more than one woman swoon—in and out of drag. I stretched leisurely then looked at D. She was always stunning, and tonight was no exception. She wore a chic deep aqua pantsuit with her straight black hair pulled back at the neck. Lady D didn’t perform much anymore. Yet, even without the dress and heavy makeup, she had a level of class and attitude that screamed runway. Her pale pink lips stretched into a wide smile. Sometimes D knew what I was thinking before I did.

  “Where are Mynx and the others?” I asked, more out of curiosity than concern. I thought I knew where my business partner was, but like peeking under a bandage, I had a morbid urge to confirm the facts.

 

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