“Oh ma cher, ya wasn’t supposed to go dis way. Not like dis. No, no, no.” Her fingers ran through Maya’s thick hair as if Angie weren’t even there. A much younger man with skin like rich mocha crouched beside the old woman with his hand on her shoulder. They’d known Maya. That much was clear. They were the only two mourners present. The rest of the audience sat still as if they were frozen in time, nonreactive to everything.
A shrill, upbeat whistling echoed through the hall. Angie and the pair across from her turned to the source of the noise. The Baron Samedi waltzed through the open doors of the holy building like he owned the place. She recognized him from his painted skeletal face and characteristic suit. She’d seen replicas hundreds of times since she was a girl. He had a pep to his step that contrasted the situation in ways that pissed those in attendance off. At least it did to Angie. She assumed the other two felt the same since they stood abruptly, hostility rolled off of them in waves.
“Come to gloat? Or finish what ya started?” the old woman croaked.
He frowned momentarily before his expression turned back to one of indifference.
“It’s a pity and a waste, but the girl made her decision.” His accent was thick with his Creole language. She had to pay close attention to understand him fully.
“Bow or die? Don’t seem like much of a decision to me,” the woman’s companion remarked.
“Hush, Tyrique. Da time will come, trust me.” She squeezed his hand and returned her attention to the Baron.
“Yansa, always the self righteous one, weren’t you? No matter, your time will come as well. There’s a new God in town and your only hope is dead on the floor.”
“There is always hope.”
The tingle returned and she was swallowed by the darkness yet again. Angie felt like she was falling back into her body and she was sure it was a feeling she’d never get used to.
***
She blinked a few times, trying to push some moisture back into her painfully dry eyes. She had no idea how long she’d been gone for that time, but it was longer than she cared for. Her shriveled eyeballs agreed.
Arlen’s vibrant purple eyes were right above hers, full of worry and fear. She felt the butterflies in her belly go wild at the notion.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She wasn’t, not in the least after everything she’d just seen. How was she to tell him about it all?
She shook her head, her chest constricting with the tears beginning to flow. Maya was going to die and there was nothing she could do about it. She wanted to know more, like a specific date. If she knew when it would happen, maybe she could stop Maya from being there. Was it possible to change the outcomes of her visions? She’d never really considered it before.
Arlen’s arms slipped around her and he dragged her onto his lap. She buried her face into his shoulder as her tears soaked the thin material of his t-shirt. He didn’t seem to care though. He squeezed her tightly. It was exactly what she needed and he had instinctively known without her needing to voice it. The bond that connected them was mind boggling to her. Even though it hadn’t even been a full day, it was already more precious to her than almost anything.
“It was bad, Ar. It was really bad,” she whispered, wiping away her tears as best as she could.
“What happened this time?”
“It was Maya and Rhys. Something bad is coming. I think the Baron is going to kill them all.” Her voice had become barely audible. It was as though she thought it wouldn’t be as real if she didn’t say it out loud, like a bad dream.
“What did you see?” he asked.
She relayed everything she’d seen, even down to the creepy congregation of people sitting in the church like weird zombies. He didn’t interrupt. He just let her spill her guts to him and sob. Her mind was replaying the sights over and over again like picking at a scab so she couldn’t move on to healing.
Arlen’s face betrayed his emotions. Or maybe she was just being allowed past his inner fortress.
“We will figure this out. We won’t stand by and do nothing. They’re our friends and we will do what we can to help.”
The sound of his voice in her mind was soothing and reassuring.
“Can we? Is the future changeable? Or is it all a part of destiny?”
Chapter 16
Arlen
Fine lines formed near Angie’s eyes and mouth. She was terrified for her friends. Hell, Arlen was worried. He didn’t know first hand what his mate had seen, but it had been bad enough to leave her visibly shaken.
Angie had gotten up and made her way into the kitchen to rifle through cupboards and the pantry in search of… what? Arlen wasn’t sure. She had declared she was going to be the chef for that night’s meal and that it would be best if Arlen just stayed out of her way and let her work.
Her love was food and it was mesmerizing to watch her move about the space with such ease. Angie had a collection of assorted vegetables in front of her, prepped and ready to be chopped.
The phone began to blare its annoyingly high pitched wail to indicate an incoming call. Arlen could hardly believe it. Loren never called that close to a job for another one. He got up from the couch and crossed to the window, hitting the answer button on the way.
“What?” He was far curter than he needed to be, but fuck, he was frustrated by the call and the stone beast hadn’t even said anything yet.
“Is that anyway to greet a friend?” Loren teased.
“I wasn’t aware that we were.”
“Let’s get right down to business, then shall we?”
Arlen grunted. “What’s the new job?”
“You see, that’s sort of the problem. There’s was problem with the last job,” Loren said testily.
The bottom dropped out of Arlen’s stomach. He’d never fucked up a job before and he’d been sure he hadn’t missed anything. He was a loose end who’d be tied up if he failed.
“What sort of problem with the job?” Arlen asked.
“The sort where the job wasn’t done. The client said not everyone was disposed of.” He was vague with a hint of fury beneath his words.
“There were five present and all were taken care of. Was there another mark?”
“It looks that way. I hope I can count on you to ensure the situation is handled to satisfaction. I’d hate to have to find someone else to do it.”
The threat was evident. Take care of it or I’ll take care of you. Arlen didn’t have a choice, not really. Arlen was sick of the gargoyle saying jump and everyone else asking how high.
“I’ll take care of it,” he retorted and disconnected the call.
Motherfucker!
How was he going to explain that to his mate? She’d been fairly pissed the last time he’d left abruptly. He couldn’t very well just tell her what he did. It would put both of them at risk and then there was a good chance his chosen career could cross that fine line for his mate. Arlen wouldn’t chance her leaving.
“What is it?” Angie called from her spot at the counter.
Lie! All his thoughts and logic demanded it. Sometimes you have to lie to the ones you love to protect them and that was exactly what he told himself while he deceived her.
“That was Rhys, actually. He needs help with tracking. It’s sort of time sensitive, so I told him I’d give him a hand, but I should be back soon. I might miss dinner, but not by too much,” he explained.
He hoped she hadn’t learned more about how their bond worked. Her searching his mind for truths would throw a bit of a wrench in his plans.
Angie bit her lip, but nodded her agreement. She was growing braver each day and becoming more confident in being left alone. His heart felt as if it were on the verge of burst with pride and adoration for his mate. She’d come so far in such a short amount of time.
“I’ll be fast. I promise.”
He strolled into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her middle. Her long neck stretched back, giving him ample access
. Arlen pounced on the opportunity to kiss her. She let out a breathy moan and he pulled back a little to give her one, final kiss.
“I think I love you,” she said, fanning herself.
“I don’t think. I know. I love you more than I ever dreamed I could, a’maelamin.”
A sensation of delighted lightness grew in his chest. He ignored the first part of her declaration. Those three little words meant everything to him. He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. He pressed his lips ardently against his woman’s. His tongue caressed hers and her lips clung to his. The passionate kiss was quick, yet it said everything he was feeling.
Angie pressed her flattened palm against his chest, just above his heart. She peeked up into his eyes. Hers were beginning to mist up.
“You better hurry so you can come back to me,” she said simply.
He nodded.
He briefly wondered if she knew what she was doing to him. Arlen could easily get caught up in her body and let the wrong head do the thinking for him. Unfortunately, he still had a job to do.
She resumed her task as soon as he moved away from her. The focus etched into her face was stunningly beautiful. Arlen collected a few essentials, but nowhere near what he’d packed during his first trip to the vampire hideout. There wasn’t a point carrying so much if he was only going after a single individual. He stuffed the bag quickly and grabbed his vajra. He shoved it into the waistband of his cargo pants. It was a weapon similar to a baton in shape, but far more powerful. It pulled energy from the Earth itself and concentrated it within its core. It had saved his ass more times than he could count, most recently being the battle against the Bacalou.
Arlen checked his messages in search of new information regarding his case. There was a single individual, a man, who’d somehow been missed. The text went over his physical description in great detail. It was a white male, around six foot with a slim build. He had tattoos covering his left arm and a scar over his right eye. The fucker had probably been the source of the sound he’d been too distracted to check out.
Something about the whole situation felt off. Had he gotten that sloppy that he’d miss something so monumental? Jesus, his head was in a fucked up place. No, not fucked up. Happy. For the first time in over seventy years, he was happy.
The hunt replayed over and over in his head while he drove back out to that shit hole. He hardly believed he’d made such an error, but the evidence was right in front of him. If Loren said he hadn’t finished it, then he could bet he hadn’t.
The trip didn’t take nearly long enough for him to wrap his mind around how to tackle his life problems. He stopped a few houses down from the abandoned one. It wasn’t a great neighborhood to begin with. Most of the houses had been devastated during the big storm a few years back. That neighborhood looked to have been spared for the most part. However, the damage done was noticeable and the homeowners likely hadn’t had the funds to fully restore the damaged houses.
The sun was dropping closer to the horizon and the sky was painted in pinks and oranges. Children rode their bikes up and down the street, playing without a care while parents chatted happily nearby. None of them knew of the secret world they were living in. They were innocent.
Arlen crept up the steps, eager to get it over with. The door was unlocked and he pushed it open carefully. The house looked the same as it had a few days earlier, minus a few corpses and piles of muck. Spindles on the railing above were cracked and splintered from the scuffle. The only evidence of the vampire’s existence was the stains still marring the warped boards.
He heard a creak towards the rear of the house and pulled the vajra out. The weapon came to life in his hand, illuminating the room around him and ready to incinerate anything that crossed its path. The magic hummed as if it had its own essence and life force.
As a hunter, he had no trouble moving undetected through a space. He made his way up to the second floor and quickly combed over each room, but not seeing anything out of place. Homes like that one didn’t have basements. With the water table being so high, digging one was impossible, not without having a pond before you could lay the cement. The Fae made his way back down the stairs and studied the main floor, beginning to think he’d wasted his time riding out there. The bloodsucker was probably in the wind, recognizing that he and his coven mates were being hunted.
Irritation boiled inside him. The job was turning into a far bigger headache than he had anticipated and it had already kept him away from his mate for longer than he liked. Loren had sent him on a wild goose chase, because for all he knew, the creature could be on the other side of the world. It wouldn’t have been difficult. There was no evidence of where the vampire had gone. He’d checked every room and there were no signs of another vampire. Something didn’t add up, but what was he missing?
He spun on his heel and closed his hand around the front door knob. Arlen would have to find him some other way. He pulled the door open and stepped through, however, something made him stop. Someone was watching him, he could feel it.
There was a creak behind him and he spun to face it. Nothing prepared him for the face he was confronted with as he studied his stalker.
“Caressia?” he asked in confusion.
The woman stood erect and smug in the doorway to the kitchen. Her dark hair was pulled back tight into a near painful ponytail. Caressia’s clothes were practically painted on; Arlen didn’t know how she could move comfortably in them. Women were the hardest mysteries to solve.
“Hello lover, so nice of you to join us,” she crooned.
It was bad. He knew it deep down in his bones. Everything was coming together. There’d never been another vampire. He’d been set up.
“Us?” he asked, searching the space over her shoulders for an ambush.
He glanced over his shoulder in time to see Brokk slipping inside the home. The door clicked shut quietly behind him. She was working with Lorik.
“It seems your loyalties are a bit fickle,” he remarked dryly.
Caressia was barely controlling her rage. Muscles along her jaw flexed as she clenched her teeth together. He seemed to have hit a nerve.
“I was always meant to be Queen. Lorik was the only one smart enough to recognize that and not contaminate the gene pool with human filth.”
So, that was what it was all about. He wouldn’t marry her and had found his mate. She went for the next best thing. He wondered if she’d come to his home already under Lorik’s thumb or whether she was trying to chain Arlen down. Her comments about his mate lit a fire in him, but he smothered it the best he could. He needed a cool head. If he reacted too strongly to her remarks, he could inadvertently put Angela at risk. Caressia was the type of woman who would maim her just for fun.
“That’s okay. The twisted fucker can have my sloppy seconds,” Arlen fired back.
Fury rolled off the woman in waves. With a quick jerk of her head to Brokk, indicating Arlen, she turned and exited the house through the back door. Arlen knew what was coming. His time had run out.
“Lights out asshole,” Brokk boomed just before he slammed something hard into the back of Arlen’s head.
He went down immediately. His vision blurred before going completely dark. Angela needed to be warned. Maybe they’d let her be. She was only a human after all and no threat to the Fae.
Those were his last thoughts before he lost consciousness.
Chapter 17
Angie
He’d been gone way too long.
Angie began to worry when the sun set and dinner had long since gone cold, and Arlen still hadn’t returned. He hadn’t even left a number to reach him at. It wouldn’t have done her much good anyways since she hadn’t seen her phone since before the attack.
She’d spent an hour picking at her food. It had gotten too cold to eat and she’d thrown it out. Doing nothing other than worry was going to drive her insane. It was times like that when she wished the stubborn Fae had modern comforts like a television. A
t least it would’ve temporarily quieted her thoughts.
Angie’s mind was running wild with all the possibilities while she packed the food away into containers. Could he be in a ditch somewhere? She doubted it since he was Fae, and like a superhero, but she didn’t know for certain.
Thinking about everything that had happened was one thing she didn’t want to do. So, she began to collect the laundry and clean the loft. It wasn’t her forte, but she threw herself into it. Once the floors and surfaces were practically gleaming, she turned to check out the window for his arrival.
Angie glanced at the clock. It was already after eleven at night. Something was wrong. He should have checked in or come home by then.
She went to bed, not that it helped. She was restless without the comfort of his body. Nothing she did helped. Sweat clung to her heated skin as she tossed and turned. The sheets cocooned her body, suffocating her. Finally giving up her battle, she tossed the bedding aside and got up. The hardwood was cold under her hot toes. Every shadow was a monster under her paranoid scrutiny.
Crossing into the living room, she flipped on the lights. Angie headed straight to the kitchenette and pulled a glass from the cupboard. She tugged the refrigerator door open and pulled out the jug of milk. Angie quickly poured a glass and put things away. Her side slumped against the countertop.
Angie swallowed large gulps of the cold milk and surveyed the apartment from where she stood. Everything looked perfect at first glance, however, something nagged at her. It was more than just the fact that Arlen hadn’t returned and it had been hours. No, this was something else. Something was…off.
That was when she noticed it. The window near the corner, it was open. Just barely, but it was definitely ajar.
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