Broken (The Voodoo Revival Series Book 3)

by Victoria Flynn

  “What if I promise to go slow and be extra careful?”

  His cheeky grin was contagious. Without even realizing it, she was smiling like a fool and nodding her agreement. Arlen tugged her over to the bike and pushed the tiny hairs back from her face. His scent was as intoxicating as his warmth was. Truthfully, she was looking forward to having him cradled between her thighs. That pun was definitely intended.

  Arlen placed the helmet on her head and secured the strap under her chin. He climbed onto the bike and steadied it. With a nod, she braced her hands on his shoulders and swung her leg over the seat and scooted close against his back. Angela wrapped her arms around his middle.

  “Better hold on tight,” he said, patting the hands already hugging his stomach.

  The bike roared to life beneath them. The vibrations rocked every fiber of Angie’s body. Arlen hit the throttle and pushed away from the curb. Before she could even realize what had happened, they were off and tearing down the streets. Arlen took a few quick turns and was driving up the entrance ramp of Interstate Ten.

  Arlen zipped in and out of traffic as if there was no one else on the highway. They were heading to the northern part of the city, but she quit paying attention. The wind whipped through her hair and caressed her skin. She hadn’t felt so free since…who knew when?

  Less than ten minutes later, they’d pulled to a stop at the city park. Angela was confused. It was a little odd, but she was somewhat prepared to roll with it.

  The park wasn’t as busy as she thought it might be. Where people usually jogged and played Frisbee, there was no one. Throughout the entire trek, she only saw four other people and two of them had been homeless.

  The McDonogh Oak Tree loomed before them, standing tall. Angela had played there as a child, marveling at the twisted limbs and lifted roots.

  “This is what I wanted to show you.”

  Angie smoothed her hands over the rough bark of the trunk. It was so beautiful in its own way. The single Oak had stood the test of time and each twisted branch, each break had been hard earned. It had seen the metropolis crawl up out of the swamp. It had seen the Native Americans hunting and going to war with neighboring tribes. She couldn’t fathom what else the eight-hundred-year old tree had seen.

  “Thank you. It’s so beautiful.” And it was. She was touched by the simplicity of it.

  “Come on. I’ll give you a boost,” he said, holding out a hand to her.

  She paused, staring at him as if he’d lost his damn mind. Glancing back and forth between the tree and him, she crossed her arms across her chest.

  “You do know you aren’t supposed to climb on it right?” she pointed out, motioning to the support beams under the larger branches.

  “What good are rules if you don’t break one now and again?”

  Arlen swung up onto a branch and climbed until he was just above her. He bent down and extended a hand to her. Be brave. Just do it, she thought to herself. Angela shoved her hand into his before she could talk herself out of it. The man lifted her up onto the branch beside him as if she weighed nothing at all.

  He was like a superhero.

  Her superhero.

  She pushed the idea away before she let herself contemplate it. Angie needed to steer clear of that sort of craziness even if the guy in question was arguably the sexiest man she’d seen in person.

  Standing tall on the branch, he climbed higher. As if on autopilot, Angela got up and followed. The tree was so old and gnarled, its limbs were as fat as a sidewalk and it made climbing a breeze. Arlen must be part monkey, she thought as he hopped from branch to branch without ever needing to sure up his footing.

  Finally, he stopped and sat down on a thick branch, leaving Angie enough room to sit next to him comfortably.

  She was panting and had worked up a bit of a sweat during the climb. Angie wasn’t half as good at it as Arlen had been and each new branch had meant she had to double check her balance before moving on to the next one.

  “What the hell? Are you Tarzan or something?” she asked, swinging one leg over the branch so she was straddling it. Their knees were close to touching and if Angie moved even slightly, she’d feel his warm skin against hers.

  Arlen seemed confused by her question and when he didn’t reply, she added, “You know? The Ape Man?”

  “I spent a lot of time in trees when I was a boy.”

  She could picture him almost perfectly as a child. He looked like a little angel with permanently scraped knees and bruises.

  “So, tell me about yourself. What’s your family like?” Angie asked curiously.

  With a deep sigh, he leaned back against the tree trunk and looked deep into her eyes.

  “My family died a long time ago. Now, its just me.”

  She could see the sorrow and regret as plain as day. He still mourned for them.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  She didn’t want to ask what happened. One didn’t lose their entire family without something tragic occurring.

  “What about you?”

  Angie didn’t know where to start. Her family was a mess. She figured that was a conversation best left for perhaps a second or third date.

  “Let’s not get too heavy right now. Besides, my family could take us all week to discuss. What do you do for a living?”

  He picked a leaf from a nearby limb and shredded it while he contemplated his answer. She thought it was odd. What type of job would make a guy like Arlen clam up? Shit, maybe he was a mob boss? Or a drug dealer? However, neither really seemed to fit into the stereotypes.

  “I guess you could say I find people and things which don’t want to be found.”

  What the hell did that mean? The man was a mystery wrapped up in a delicious enigmatic package and she couldn’t figure out what to make of him or what he’d said.

  “Like a private investigator or something?”

  His head bobbed back and forth in a, eh, maybe, kind of fashion. “Yeah, something like that.”

  He found people for a living. Missing people. It made her think of something which had been bothering her for a while. She had been too afraid to ask before because she was scared of what answer she’d get.

  “Would you be able to find Maya?”

  The last she’d seen of her, her friend had been in a dire situation. Those assholes had magic and demons, but her best friend had still charged in there to get her out. Those men had every intention of killing her, they’d said as much. She had been mentally preparing herself for the news that Maya hadn’t made it out.

  Arlen’s face went slack and he appeared to have had the air sucked right out of him. He hadn’t been ready for her question and the fact that he couldn’t find the words to tell her told her everything she needed to know. Maya had died in the St. Louis Cathedral that night. Her eyes began to mist up and a thick knot formed in her throat.

  Maya Thibodeau had been the closest thing she’d ever really had to family. They considered each other sisters in every way, other than blood. She’d been the calm to Angie’s storm and her anchor in life.

  Angie tearfully nodded her understanding and studied the beauty of the empty park as if it could bring her friend back. Arlen’s hand gently touched her shoulder.

  “She’s not dead, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s just complicated,” he explained.

  It was the first time in longer than she was comfortable with that she’d felt the promise of better things. It was hope. She didn’t understand what he meant, the only thing that mattered was that Maya was, in fact, alive.

  Arlen spent the next several hours explaining everything that had happened. He had begun even before she’d been kidnapped. Brad had targeted her to get close to Maya and ultimately died a most dreadful, and deserved death.

  By the end of his marathon of a story, Angie was floored and overwhelmed. Her friend had been through hell, then literally gone to Hell, or Guinee, or whatever they wanted to call it.

  “Wow.”<
br />
  Magic? Voodoo gods? Baca-something-or-others? What the hell was happening to the world?

  She’d never believed in such things before, but something about the way Arlen told the story with such conviction made her believe him wholeheartedly. Angie turned to him with the intent of saying something, though nothing would come out. How could she reply to that?

  “It’s a lot to take in all at once.”

  “Yeah,” Angie huffed.

  The sun had risen high into the sky since they’d arrived and was starting its slow descent towards the horizon. Her companion watched her every move and Angie was sure he was waiting for her to have an epic freak out. The explanation felt right and things were beginning to make sense. Those people had done something to her and she’d come out the other side with the visions. The shadows weren’t demons either, they were spirits of a sort. She still remembered the way their claws had torn at her. Those marks still hadn’t healed all the way.

  “I never thought anything like this was possible, yet it is. I’ve seen it. It’s not like I can say it’s not true,” she quipped with a giggle.

  “I never thought meeting you was possible,” he mumbled hesitantly.

  What a strange thing to say. His words touched something deep inside her though. Did he care for her? A funny sensation in her chest felt like it was tugging her towards Arlen. She’d never felt anything like it until she’d met him. She hoped he did because it would validate everything she was feeling for him. Angie couldn’t even explain it. Something about Arlen made her want to bask in his presence. He was addictive even if he was quiet and broody. Sometimes, he was too serious for her though. He needed to lighten up a bit.

  “Well, I never would’ve thought I’d be sitting in the park with a purple haired man, but here we are.” She chuckled and reached out to nudge his shoulder.

  He laughed. “Okay, fair enough.”

  His laugh was deep like his voice, but it was a magical sound. It was one she wanted to hear every day.

  “Now, you have to tell me. Is that hair real? Or the best dye job I’ve ever seen?”

  Her bet was the latter. It hadn’t blown off in the wind on their way to the park, so she doubted it was a wig. His eyebrows were so dark she was sure they were black, however when the sun hit them they had a violet glint.

  “Unfortunately, I have to claim it. It’s all natural.” He looked a little uncomfortable talking about himself, but he didn’t object.

  “Hmm, I wonder. Do the drapes match the carpet?”

  “I don’t have carpet in the apartment. I’m not really sure what that has to do with my hair,” he said, not understanding her innuendo.

  “Um, never mind. It’s just a saying,” she rushed out. Her cheeks felt like they were on fire.

  She didn’t think to question his answer. Angie didn’t understand how a man like him could have such a vivid color naturally, but she’d also never thought magic was real. She was just sort of rolling with it. Anything was possible. The pair resumed their awkward silence, neither knowing quite what to say to the other.

  “What do you think of it?” Arlen asked after a while, gesturing to the empty park before them.

  Green grass stretched out for blocks, dotted with massive oaks like the one they were sitting in.

  “It’s beautiful. Peaceful, even if we are breaking the rules,” she said, side eyeing her new friend.

  That was a good place to start… as friends. Even if they never went beyond the friend zone, they could be friends. Angie found that even outside her overwhelming sexual attraction to Arlen, she enjoyed his company and his dry sense of humor. It made it worthwhile to see his genuine laughs.

  “Yes, it is. I like to come here sometimes when I need to relax or think, or when I just want to escape for a bit.”

  Arlen pressed the flat of his hand against the harsh tree bark. He reminded Angela of a man greeting an old friend. That place brought him peace and that was enough to make Angela cherish it just as much as he did.

  “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

  Angie peeked up at him from under hooded eyes. When had they gotten so close? Who had made the move? Angie’s thoughts were scrambled. His gaze was fixed on her lips.

  They were both creeping towards the other. Gooseflesh rippled over her arms in anticipation. The tension between them was so thick, it could have been cut with a knife. His eyes broke away from her waiting lips to her eyes, asking permission. Angie gave a slight nod, wanting him to kiss her more than anything. They inched towards each other, about to make contact when a shrill chiming sounds erupted between them.

  Chapter 8

  Arlen

  Shit, he thought.

  Arlen and Angie jumped apart, startled by the jarring noise. He knew who it was even before he looked at the screen. Only two people knew the number and one of them was tied up trying to save Maya from another dimension.

  “I’m sorry. I, uh, have to take this,” he murmured as he swung down and landed nimbly on the ground.

  He clicked over the answer button and peered up at his mate, who was staring at him in disbelief and irritation. Maybe answering the call had been a mistake, but things were getting too close if he was going to keep his distance.

  “What?” Arlen answered.

  “Good to hear from you, too. Got a job for you over in Algiers Point. Need it taken care of as quickly and quietly as possible.”

  “I can’t take any jobs right now, Loren. I’ve got some things going on,” he retorted.

  The damn stone hulk ran the show and he didn’t typically take being told no very lightly. The gargoyle tsked under his breath. Loren was a scary motherfucker even when he wasn’t angry.

  “I’ve got a coven of vampires causing cash flow problems. Now, if you won’t take care of the issue, I’ll find someone who will. Just remember, there’s no leaving once you’re in and you’ve been in an awfully long time,” Loren threatened.

  Arlen didn’t have a choice. On top of the other bullshit brewing, he couldn’t afford to have the stone giant after him, too.

  “Fine, send me the address, but Loren? I need time after this. I’ve got some stuff that’s come up and need to be taken care of.”

  “Sure thing, big guy. Always a pleasure doing business with you.”

  The gruff gargoyle hung up the phone with an abrupt click.

  “Fuck!” Arlen exclaimed, barely holding back from chucking the phone against the tree.

  “What’s wrong?” Angie asked from above. She was slowly making her way back down, branch by branch.

  When she got to the lowest one, Arlen gripped her by the waist and lifted her down to the safety of the ground.

  “I’ve got something I need to take care of real quick. I’ll take you back to the loft, but I just want you to know I’m really sorry about this. It was never my intention to bring you out here and bail.” His voice trailed off. She didn’t know it, but he was apologizing for so much more than having to work.

  He should never have given her hope for something more between them. Arlen could withstand the disappointment and heartache, however, it made him sick to think of her feeling it.

  She just nodded, but he could see the hurt in her eyes. God, why couldn’t he get anything right?

  The ride back to the loft went far too quickly and by the time they were home, Angie wouldn’t even look at him.

  He walked close behind her up to his apartment, unable to take his eyes off her tantalizing backside. Arlen wanted to bite it and watch it turn warm and pink under his hands.

  Damn, I’m a pervert, he thought. She was hurting and he was horny.

  “Do you need anything before I go?” he asked.

  She shook her head and disappeared into the bedroom, shutting the door a bit harder than was necessary.

  Great.

  He made his way to the hall closet and opened it.

  It looked like any normal closet would. It had a jacket or two hanging and boxes stacked along a shelf
in the top portion of the space. What most didn’t have was a safe room and armory hidden in the back wall. He unlatched the lock and pushed it wide open.

  There was enough space and supplies to keep a person hidden and somewhat comfortable for a few days. His arsenal was much better stocked. He grabbed a duffel bag and began stuffing his usual supplies into it. Silver tipped, hollow point rounds were necessary for almost all supernatural hunts. Silver was toxic to most species, except Fae. Loren had said it was vampires, so he grabbed a UV light gun, a crossbow, and a handful of wooden stakes just to be on the safe side.

  Arlen slipped on his shoulder holster and loaded up before shrugging back into his jacket. He was going to take care of business then come home and set things straight between him and Angela. Granted, she’d been dealt a bit more danger than most, but she could go on and have a normal life. Damn it, if he was going to stand in the way of her having that.

  She’d actually been mad that he was leaving. Something about her rejection of his responsibilities irritated him. He could see her being upset about him interrupting their near kiss, but she wouldn’t be mad about that still, would she?

  His thoughts strayed to that missed opportunity. Her lips had looked as soft and plush as velvet and he wanted so badly to see them swollen from their lovemaking. Arlen wanted to charge into that room and fuck his woman the way she deserved, but they’d both regret it. She’d be his and there’d be no going back. He was borrowing trouble just by thinking about it. Arlen double checked every door and window lock to make sure they were secure. No one would be getting in and he was certain he could trust his mate enough to stay put. He slipped out and made his way down the stairs to his bike.

  Algiers Point.

  He could be there in fifteen minutes, maybe faster with the curfews and citizens abandoning the city by the hundreds each day. The chaos which was breaking out sporadically was like ringing a dinner bell for the paranormal. Vampires, like the coven he was hired to destroy, could easily take a dozen or more humans without anyone catching on. When they got sloppy or drew too much attention, a call was made. The paycheck had always been worth the risk, until Angie had come along.