Hell's Belle

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Hell's Belle Page 27

by Marie Castle


  Miss James never even looked back. I followed her heels’ methodical click click as she calmly walked from the room. I just shook my head, grinning as Serena muttered, “What a woman.”

  I didn’t need to see the look on her face to know that had hurt…and more than just her undead body. But I took one last look to confirm suspicions of another nature before turning again to stare at Miss James’ receding form. Serena’s face said it all. Unknowingly, the prickly paralegal had just released one very curious hound. I had no doubt that Serena would nip at her heels until she unearthed every skeleton in Miss James’ Brooks Brothers closet. Serena had found another playmate, and I was just selfish enough to hope this meant an end to certain things and a beginning to others.

  A few minutes later, I knew my hoping was not in vain…at least in regard to Miss James. It wasn’t a phone booth, but you wouldn’t have known it from the super-fast change she made in the downstairs bathroom. Gone were the glasses and bun. Instead, her hair was pulled back into a series of small braids which she’d twisted into a complicated plait at the base of her neck. She was decked out in black cargo pants similar to my own, black boots, and a sleeveless black shirt with thick hammered-gold bracelets around her wrists and small muscular biceps.

  My shocked face at the new and improved, battle-ready paralegal’s miraculous transformation was nothing compared to Serena’s slack-jawed ogle. But neither came close to Miss James’ near faint when, a few minutes later, Abigail Gryphon, the Tiger Alpha’s very pregnant mate, toddled into the training room (now more a war room).

  “JJ!” Abigail shouted, dashing across the room and throwing herself at the unsuspecting Miss James. Abigail’s ecstatic voice boomed around the high-ceiling room. Miss James struggled to hold up the pregnant woman, who’d lost her breath and balance.

  Jacq, Mynx, Fera, Rom and I stood nearby, going over maps. I leaned my elbows on the paper-strewn table, watching as Abigail’s husband, an unamused Grey Gryphon, followed by a worried-looking Luke, entered the room. Grey wrapped his arms around his wife, steadying her. Abigail continued talking from her husband’s embrace, shooting out rapid-fire questions, not allowing Miss James to answer.

  “JJ, where’ve you been? And what did you do with your hair?” Abigail leaned forward, gingerly touching the white streak in Miss James’ black hair. Miss James opened her mouth but shut it again. “They said you were de…dea…” Abigail started crying.

  “Abby.” Miss James stepped forward, hugging the pregnant woman, not quite fully encircling her swollen belly. “It’s a long story.” She gave Serena and Grey a look. “One I’ll tell you someday soon…but not tonight.”

  I thought for sure Grey would erupt over someone making his mate cry. Weres generally removed extremities for that offense. But he merely sighed. “She’s been doing this all day. The kits are nearly due, and I cannot leave her.” He offered Miss James a hand. “I’ve heard a great deal about you, lass.”

  Miss James gave him a dismayed look then shook his hand.

  Like a switch being turned, Abby’s waterworks stopped, and the flaming redhead hit her husband’s shoulder. “You mean I wouldn’t let you leave me, you big lout.” She gave her husband a watery smile, taking any rebuke from the words. Abby turned to us. “I told him if he didn’t bring me, I’d follow him here and have the babies alone on a roadside.” Luke and Grey shuddered at that possibility. Abby turned back to her husband, kissing him on the chin. “But if it’s okay, I’ll stay here and wait for you.” She gave him a sweet smile, batting her eyes.

  “I don’t know, lass,” Grey murmured. “What if the kits come?”

  “I’ll take good care of your mate,” Nana said, entering the room with a pale, grim-faced Risa. I wouldn’t have cleared her to fight this minute, but with some food and her Were healing, Risa would be fine by the time we made it to The Burg. Nana pointed at me. “I’ve birthed my share of babies, including that one, who was much bigger than you’d know from how skinny she is now.”

  Jacq shifted closer, circling her arm behind me beneath the high table. She didn’t crack a laugh, but Mynx and Fera muffled snickers. I gave both a tight-lipped smile, and they quieted.

  Grey bowed his head. “Your reputation, Gwendolyn, as a healer and midwife is well known. If you will allow me to leave some of my people, then I would trust you with this. In fact, it would ease my mind.”

  “Agreed.” Nana nodded.

  I didn’t protest. With Aunt Helena still injured, they’d be safer this way. I was sure Nicodemus wouldn’t attack, but the extra protection was reassuring. Besides, knowing my grandmother, she’d have them hanging Sheetrock and painting the hall before the rest of us were halfway to the city.

  Serena stepped closer to Miss James, who sidled away. “I have a contingent of vampires outside. I’ll leave two to patrol the wards.” To Miss James, she said softly, “JJ, huh? I think someone somewhere knows your first name.” She flashed Miss James a fang-filled smile, a curious concentrating look on her face.

  Miss James sighed. “Fine, call me JJ if you wish. You may all,” she looked to us, “call me JJ. Just stay out of my head.” She gave Serena a pointed look. “And don’t go interrogating my friends.”

  The Blood-Kin’s CPA Bob Rainey had contained an embezzling demonic spirit named Sarkoph. The Virginian coal mine guide Peter Traylor had contained a similar dark spirit named Titus. Our neighbor Wellsy was possessed by yet another unknown spirit. Titus had called Nicodemus his brother, which meant he was probably also a demonic spirit possessing yet another body with yet another name. Now Miss James was JJ. My eyes rolled skyward. Any more of this and I was going to need a list.

  The others approached the table, but Luke hung back. He didn’t look happy to see Jacq, but he held his tongue, which was more than I’d expected. “Luke?” I patted the table.

  He approached hesitantly. There was no lingering anger in his eyes, only awkwardness, which was a relief. “Yeah?” he asked, voice gravelly.

  “We’ll get Becca back.” I looked at the assembled group. “We’ll get them all back.” I’d asked the others to leave their Vampires and Weres outside. I was going to explain where we were headed and give a plan of action. The fewer who knew the details, the better. “This, my friend,” I gestured at the maps, “is the kind of story that ends with a happily ever after.” We wouldn’t allow it to be any other way.

  I looked down, double-checking a portable GPS before resting my finger on a small circled area that wouldn’t mean anything to anyone if you weren’t from the region and didn’t know the tracker’s signal had been doggedly moving toward that very spot.

  It was JJ who expressed the doubt I could see on Luke’s and the other Weres’ faces. “Happy endings are for the movies, children and naïve people who think they’re in love.” She crossed her arms, gold sparks flying as her cuffs knocked against each other.

  I grinned, undaunted. “Maybe. But in tonight’s case, I can deliver at least two outta three.”

  Almost everyone wore a perplexed expression as they tried to determine which two they could expect. My smile widened. The night was going to be full of surprises.

  It was about time I got to dump one in someone else’s lap.

  * * *

  I was waiting in the hall when Jacq came down from settling Abigail, who had offered to sit with my sleeping aunt in her room. Abby seemed to be full of such courtesies. No wonder Grey’s Weres were tripping over themselves to care for her. JJ, having lingered to speak privately with my Nana, walked through the hall, heading toward the door and the long caravan of cars waiting to leave for the battle. I let her pass without a word, never taking my eyes off the woman approaching gracefully from above.

  My eyes skimmed Jacq’s black trousers, low-heeled boots and black T. Her thumbs were tucked into her pockets. No weapons, no badge, she looked dressed for dinner or clubbing. But her face told a different story. That beautiful, planed face of smooth creamy skin, etched muscle, and one single braid of
dark auburn hair passing beside her left eye before the rest fell around her neck…

  That was a warrior’s face. One that looked at me with hungry, sad eyes.

  My mouth was suddenly dry. I tucked my hands into my back pockets and rocked back on my booted heels, waiting. I didn’t have to wonder about the sadness. I’d raised my mental shields in preparation for the battle, knowing I couldn’t risk Nicodemus or his group reading my thoughts. But raising my barriers had cost us both something. Now, I could only feel a trickle of Jacq’s presence in my head. She thought I’d done it to block her. I held out my hand, clasped her warm one, and pulled Jacq to the den.

  “Cate, everyone’s waiting.” There was a question in her voice as I pushed her down into my favorite comfy chair and crouched at her feet.

  “They can spare us five minutes.” I grabbed Jacq’s hands and looked up, my voice soft and low. “I’m keeping secrets.” Her face froze. I squeezed her hands. “But not from you.” I tweaked my shields, trying to make our connection stronger without letting the others in. It helped a bit. I felt the warmth of her thoughts creep into mine, and we both relaxed. “Besides, after that shower, you’ve seen most of my secrets.”

  Jacq smiled and kissed my palm. Her lips lingered. That familiar tingle started at my hand and moved like hot liquid down my arm. I closed my eyes, savoring the sensation. Mentioning our adventure in the bathroom hadn’t made me blush, but the look in her eyes as her lips touched my skin made a flush rise to my face, and I found myself once again speechless.

  “It wasn’t long,” Jacq said softly, “but I missed having you with me.”

  I met her gaze and nodded, enjoying the feeling of my hand in hers. Her presence in my head was so new, but I’d missed it as well. Something had been missing before we’d met. Her presence, both physically and mentally, made me feel whole again. I’d be alone again soon, and I’d welcome knowing she was with me, at least in my thoughts.

  I took a deep breath then asked, “Can you promise me something?” I wished for both our sakes that I didn’t have to make this request of her.

  “Anything,” Jacq said.

  “Be the last to the fight.” Jacq began to pull her hand from mine and I grasped it tightly. “You saw the map. There are houses, apartments, all manner of people in the area where the fight will be. Serena, Grey, Fera and their people won’t be worried about keeping the battle from spilling into occupied areas. I’m asking you to bring up the rear, Detective. Keep the battle from the humans. Honor your oath as an officer to protect the innocent.”

  “And what of you, cher,” Jacq asked, worry in her eyes, “who will protect you?”

  I stood, tugging her up and behind me toward the door. “It’s past time I learned to protect myself.” Deep inside me, something dark and hungry echoed the sentiment.

  Well past time.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Temptation: The craving to do something you know you shouldn’t. Kind of like opening a gate to hell. It’s a real temptation to see what sort of worms will come out of that can. But you don’t. That’s what makes us the good guys. That, and we generally smell better.”

  —Evie Delacy

  “Hi-O Silverado, away.” AC/DC’s Back in Black was playing loudly over the radio, fighting the engine’s roar for dominance, when I jammed the gas pedal and aimed my grandpa’s old Chevy toward the charred gates that protected the Cleverly Drive-In from prying eyes. I checked my rearview mirror. No big black SUVs. No back up. That was the way I’d wanted it. But it was still disconcerting to realize that I was alone…at least for now.

  I crashed through the gates. Wood splintered, hitting the windshield which cracked but thankfully held. I bounced up and down on old shocks, rocketing over the pitted asphalt toward the movie screen’s dim outline which was, amazingly, still half-standing. I’d come here with my entire family to see Gone With the Wind on the big screen. Ironic really, considering the theater had recently burned, much like the movie’s rendition of Civil War Atlanta.

  I turned on my headlights. For a moment, nothing happened. Then one bulb flickered to life before heating into a bright torch. In the light’s glare, I saw a raptor move to intercept, but something smaller rushed out of the darkness. They hit and fell back into the shadows. It was too soon for the Weres to be here, but I didn’t question my luck.

  I could just make out two small herds of raptors running on either side of the truck, escorting me in. I held the wheel steady, ignoring the urge to sideswipe the lot. Not only were they big enough en masse to squash me, but I was banking on the fact that Nicodemus wanted to grab a guardian alive. Hopefully, the nesreterka and any other minions lurking in the shadows had orders not to hurt me. But orders only went so far.

  The raptors veered left and right, circling a dark mass ahead. In my rearview, another group moved to block the smashed gate. No going back.

  I looked ahead just in time to jerk the wheel right as the dark mass coalesced into an unexpectedly large wooden structure. The Chevy, made before the days of power steering, turned too slow for comfort, narrowly swerving to the structure’s side. I pumped the old brakes, hearing the tires screech as I finally stopped mere feet from where the structure, a stage, had been erected at the crumbling screen’s base.

  The sawdust and scrap lumber visible in the headlight’s glare explained why there were no scorch marks on the stage. I was right. Nicodemus had picked this location long ago, and someone had been here putting things together. No way had the owners constructed this. I smiled as I listened to the old engine tick in the night air. If someone had decided to reopen the Cleverly, they would’ve built something more important first. Like a better gate to keep riff raff such as myself out. But a stage? No, that theatric was all Nicodemus.

  Still, I didn’t think Nicodemus’s mama-drama was the only reason they’d chosen the Cleverly. Neither was its status as a recently ruined landmark, its destruction a good source of residual magic. No, there were other benefits. The high wooden fence covered in dense overgrown kudzu offered a space where he could gate in an entire army, and no one would know until the mess spilled past the fence. Of course, this could also work in our favor. I knew the sort of people that lived in this neighborhood. They weren’t the type to run, even when something as gruesome as a hungry reptilian Otherworld creature was on the prowl. Nope, if the people in this area thought they were under attack, we’d have grandmothers in curlers and house shoes, with pistols, and every Elmer Fudd wannabe in a wife-beater with a shotgun on the lawn before you could say, “The communists’re comin’.”

  Two shadowy figures approached. I rolled the old hand-crank window down and stuck my head out, laying my left arm across the door, hiding the hand that rested on the holstered stun gun under my armpit. I forced my hand to loosen as they neared. Part of me wanted to pull the gun and fire, no questions asked. It was the same part that had wanted to ram the raptors.

  Every red-blooded American loves to blow up, smash, or set fire to something. Fortunately, most get their violence-is-entertainment fix vicariously. But this urge I was feeling was well beyond normal. It was the same dark hunger I’d faced down at Lady D’s. It wanted to unleash fire until the Cleverly was blazing again or, at the barest minimum, shoot, hack at, and knife any and everything between myself and my friends. The first was not an option. The second? That was yet to be determined.

  I’d decided not to use my fire unless things became dire. Unleashing a big bomb of hellfire this near the city (and on the grounds of a landmark, no less) would be like sticking a pair of dirty panties under the top Prime’s nose. It would elicit some scrunched noses, a few raised eyebrows, and a swift smack-down upon a Delacy head, presumably my own tender noggin. And as that was on my list of things not to do this evening, I tucked that dark demon part of me into a corner, chained the door shut, and turned my attention to where it belonged: On the two men, now nearly upon me.

  “Sorry about the door, boys. Be sure and send me the bill.” My joke w
as met by silence.

  The night sounds of crickets and frogs, followed by the two’s footfalls, seemed unusually loud as I waited for an attack. I counted to ten then eased my hand off the gun. Their continued silence spoke volumes. These two weren’t sorcerers. Their feet were too loud and their mouths too quiet. I’d yet to meet a bad guy that didn’t take the opportunity to gloat, and having a guardian deliver herself to your doorstep seemed reason enough for boasting. They stepped into the cab’s light, confirming my suspicions.

  Dilated pupils. Pale skin. But no telltale smell of decay. They were alive…but just barely. Their young faces were empty, but the bluish lips and cold sweat on their foreheads said plenty. Here were two of the vessels. I corrected myself. Here were two of the missing boys. If I thought of them as real people—real, indisposable people—maybe we’d get them out alive. But it needed to be soon. I recognized the signs. Their hearts were giving out. The human body wasn’t made to hold the sort of power they were carrying around.

  And it was a lot of power. I felt it buzz against my skin in a way similar to a guardian’s magic or the gate’s lira…but not quite. The magic had been twisted somehow, which might explain why they were hiding it in people. If it was anything like my own powers, which were tied to my life and blood, the magic would go when my life did. It didn’t make sense. This sort of power wasn’t necessary to open and hold a gate. I had the sudden, unwelcome feeling that I was missing something.

  “The Master says you come with us,” the smaller of the two said stiffly.

  A quick scan of the area didn’t show anyone else, not even a stray raptor. But with the limited light, a beastie hoard could be waiting a few yards away in the darkest corners and I wouldn’t know until they jumped out, waved their leathery tails hello, and did an Otherworld rendition of Barney’s “I Love You” song. I shuddered at the thought.

  “Well, I guess the Master would be right. Ain’t that always the case?” Again, silence. Apparently sarcasm was as lost to these two as humor.

 

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