Soul Catcher

by Vivi Dumas

  Shit! Angel jumped up only to have Jacque grab her around the waist and wrestle her back to the bed. Struggling to get loose, she shoved against his chest.

  “Knock it off, Laurent,” she yelled, searching for her robe. “What do you want?”

  He annoyingly rapped a drum solo on the door. “Are you two finished getting reacquainted? We actually came here to do work. Remember, Jacque?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I remember,” Jacque replied. “We’ll be down in a minute.”

  “Am I forgiven now? We’re good, right, Angel?” Laurent called.

  “Whatever, Laurent. Get the hell away from my door.” She giggled, still not convinced she forgave him. He landed her exactly in the middle of what she tried to escape—Jacque.

  Jacque rolled out the bed and dashed into the bathroom. She debated following him, ultimately decided against it. They would never make it downstairs if she did. The mere thought of him and the steamy shower, the water and his touch caressing her, made her drip with anticipation. She bit her bottom lip to bring her back to reality.

  Jacque strolled out of the bathroom, toweling his hair. “I left the shower on for you, babe, since you didn’t join me.”

  “We have things to do. We can’t stay trapped in this room having sex all day, especially with Marie downstairs.” Her cheeks flushed red at the thought of her grandmother knowing what they were doing.

  “I’m sure Marie understands.” His smile flashed bright. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  “Okay,” she replied, studying the agile movements of his body as he dressed. The muscles flexed in his back as he pulled the shirt over his head, and the arms of the tee stretched tight over his biceps.

  Showered and changed, she hopped down the stairs, humming a Keisha Cole tune. Her sensible side interrupted her momentary euphoria, reminding her of all the complications she and Jacque still had to overcome. Sex was easy, but building a relationship was much harder, especially between a demon and a human. Leave it to her to fall for an Underworld demon with an aversion to humans.

  Laurent and Marie lounged on the red leather sofa. He winked at her and her grandmother snickered. Angel twirled her hair around her finger and smirked, like Sylvester on the prowl for Tweety Bird.

  “What’s on the agenda?” she blurted, trying to break the tension.

  “Jacque and I tried to find out some more information about Antione before we got here. Not much out there to be found though. All we know is he’s in the region right now, traveling between Mississippi and Texas, and passes through New Orleans a lot. We should be able to get some info from Etienne’s party tonight.” As Laurent filled everyone in, he took on a military stance, the demeanor of someone used to giving status updates.

  “I ran into him a while ago when I was stationed Topside. He’s powerful—a master vampire. It’s not going to be easy to bring in.” Concern resonated in Jacque’s voice.

  “Let’s see what we can find out tonight. When we return, we can figure out a plan. What time are we leaving for the party?” After a glance at the setting sun, Angel checked her watch.

  “I’ll come pick you up at 10:30,” Laurent answered.

  Disappointment spoiled her good mood. “Jacque’s not coming?”

  Laurent didn’t beat around the bush. As always, he was direct and to the point. “You told everyone you weren’t with Jacque, which is a better situation to get information out of people. Men will open up to you. You’re hot. Wear something skimpy and show a lot of cleavage.”

  “You’re not going to put her out there like some cheap whore!” Jacque growled.

  “This is her job. It’s how we’re going to keep her from Luc. If you can’t do this, you need to go back home,” Laurent stated matter-of-factly.

  “I’m not going anywhere. You better take care of her. I’ll be watching.”

  Angel turned to Jacque. “You’ll be at the party?”

  “Oh, I’ll be there. Don’t worry, babe.”

  “I’ll come by and get you later. It’s formal. I hope you have something to wear.” Laurent picked up his keys off the coffee table, fingering the Lamborghini emblem on the ring. Angel watched him with amusement. Men and their toys.

  “I was a model. I always have something to wear. Although shopping would’ve been fun. No time for that now. Grand-mère, do you want to come? It would be nice to go out together before you leave.” There was safety in numbers. Angel wanted to surround herself with as many people as possible. Marie brought her comfort, gave her a sense of confidence she never experienced before. She believed Angel to be a smart competent woman, not just a pretty face.

  Marie’s eyes brightened with excitement at the idea. “I haven’t been to a party in such a long time. Do you think it will be okay?”

  “I think people will enjoy seeing the two of you together. Voodoo royalty should get people talkin’.” Jacque stood in front of Angel and pushed her hair over her shoulder, his smile pensive as he gazed down at her. “Only if I could go with you.”

  “I’ll see you there. You’ll be dazzled when I make my entrance. I promise.” She snickered, snuggled into his side, and hugged his waist. “It’s all set. We’ll see you at 10:30.”

  Transforming herself into a sinful temptation required time. Upstairs in her bedroom, she leafed through the dresses in her closet, finding most of them mundane, not worthy of enticing a ball full of otherworldly creatures. She passed by Dior, Armani, De la Renta, and Gaultier, needing something to make her stand out. Shock value, done the right way, can add a layer of intrigue to entice a man. She reached toward the back of the closet, shoving the other garments out of the way. She found her prize, an edgy gown by a new up and coming designer.

  The clock glared 9:50 p.m. as the last roller slid out of her hair. She pulled the ringlets up, restraining them with silver combs highlighted with red jewels. A few curls fell, framing her oval face. Drifting to the bed, she picked up her dress, a masterpiece of leather, lace, and fine silk. She shimmied the dress along her curves, clasping the red leather corset to her breasts as she searched for help. The leather top, overlaid with black lace from France, tied in the back. The layers of black silk in the skirt whooshed around her bare feet as she shuffled down the hall.

  Angel mused at her grandmother’s girlish joy, silently watching her before entering the room. Marie spun in her royal-blue gown, admiring herself in the full-length mirror. “Grand-mère. Can you help me with my dress?”

  “Of course, dear.”

  She turned her back to Marie, giving her access to the ties. Marie tightened the corset with apt skill, pulling so tight Angel lost two inches from her waist. The constriction also pushed her breasts until they almost busted out the top of the dress. The dress embodied sex and elegance at the same time.

  “You look magnificent, ma chère,” Marie sang.

  “Thank you. You do also. I hope I can breathe all night in this thing and nothing pops out.” She inhaled and attempted to tuck the swells of her breasts farther into the corset. Jacque is going to love this.

  “I see you and Jacque are no longer fighting.”

  “I guess you can say we are back together. We were never dating to begin with, I’m not sure what to call it.”

  “Demons are curious creatures. They can be insatiably passionate, irrationally loyal, and extremely possessive. You watch yourself.”

  “Grand-mère, it’s not serious. We’re going to take it slow and see where it goes. We have enough challenges to get through before we decide to make any commitments. Lucifer’s going to be livid when he finds out. He sent Jacque away once. I’m afraid he might do it again.” She cringed at the thought of being without Jacque, hoping Lucifer found a new toy to entertain him and forget about her.

  “Just be careful, mon doux Angel. You play with fire. Everything in this world is dangerous, even love.”

  “I’ll be careful, I promise.” Wishing Marie could stay with her, Angel hugged her tightly. She needed someone who understood the insa
ne world she had immersed herself into, someone who understood her; Marie was good at both.

  “Shall we go down and wait for Laurent?”

  “I just have to slide into my shoes, and I’ll be down.”

  She slid the red leather Jimmy Choo boots on and they molded around her calves and knees. The boots served a dual purpose, a little more naughtiness and a place to hide her gun. The .9mm, filled with silver bullets, felt heavy against her leg. Silver was the way to go, since regular bullets were only going to get you one pissed-off Supe. Angel didn’t plan to waltz into a house full of demons and vampires without packing. Even though the gun pressed hard into her calf, she rather be uncomfortable than dead.

  She heard Laurent’s voice in the living room. One final make-up check and she descended the stairs. Laurent’s mouth hit the floor as she slowed at the bend on the landing.

  “Holeee...crap! Jacque officially has competition tonight. You’re fuckin’ amazing. Like a Victorian dominatrix. You can beat me any time.”

  She blushed at his reverence.

  “Why thank you, Laurent. May I say you look dashing, too.” She curtsied like the southern belle she was and admired him in his Armani tux. She knew the cut well. It was the same one Jackson picked for their wedding. The black made Laurent’s fair features stand out. His hair glowed platinum lying against the black jacket and the blue of his eyes had the depth of the Gulf.

  “I’m a lucky son-of-a-bitch. I get to escort the two most beautiful women in New Orleans. Ladies, your chariot awaits.” He motioned to a black stretch limousine parked in front of the house.

  ***

  The massive white columns surrounding the porch of Etienne’s colonial revival mansion announced the formality of the home as they turned off Charles Avenue. A line of limos waited to drop off their passengers at the front entrance. Gorgeous people dressed to the hilt emerged from car after car, reminding Angel of the red carpet show for the Oscars, all they needed was Project Runway’s Tim Gunn, to play host.

  A boy dressed in a red valet jacket held the door for Laurent, who helped Angel and Marie from the vehicle. They each took his arm and strolled the walkway to the impressive front steps. The other guests stole whispered glances as the three of them entered the house.

  At the head of the receiving line, Etienne greeted his guests. Several other vampires stood in the line beside him. A brilliant smile grew across Etienne’s face when his saw her, and she returned the gesture. Angel nervously fidgeted with her dress as they waited their turn to greet the host and wished she could adjust the gun in her boot. As required, Etienne shook Laurent’s hand first, showing his fangs, he dipped his head in a slight bow for Marie. Once finished, he focused his full attention on Angel, bringing her hand to his lips, letting them linger longer than necessary.

  “May I say you look ravishing tonight, my Angel?” His eyes fell from her face and roamed to where her breasts threatened to escape from the corset. “Never have I seen such a lovely dress.”

  “Aw. This old thing?” She batted her lashes, dropping her eyes to the floor and hiding a smile. Flirting was an art Angel had mastered as a teenager. In high school, she could will her bidding with a flash of a smile or a longing glance. As she got older, she found grown men weren’t much more difficult to persuade.

  Etienne maintained his hold on her hand; his cool skin caused a chill through her. A young lady dressed in the purple Donna Karan bumped into Angel, breaking Etienne out of his trance. Noticing the anxiousness of the crowd, he brushed his lips across her knuckles and dropped her hand.

  “Perhaps you’ll save me a dance later, if Laurent is willing to share you.” He smacked Laurent hard on the shoulder. “Marie, I’m so pleased you decided to attend. You’ve made my party the event of the year. Please enjoy yourselves.”

  The main ballroom hinged on ostentatious. The gold-leaf ceiling reflected the light from the five-tier crystal chandelier. The marble floor was inlayed with an intricate cherry design. Sapphire and silver brocade fabric covered the walls highlighted by the silver silk draperies, which flowed from ceiling to floor. People waltzed to the music from the quartet playing in the corner of the room. It was a scene from a regency novel or maybe Gone with the Wind.

  Laurent bowed and asked Marie for a dance, leaving Angel alone to study the faces in the crowd, hoping to find Jacque. She recognized many of the guests from her prior week of partying. She struggled to remember their names as they greeted her. There was a bevy of people coming and going. Her head spun trying keep up.

  “Who would leave such a beautiful lady alone at a party?” a male’s deep voice asked from behind her. She stepped forward and turned to greet the man behind the voice. She recognized his face from a club two nights ago, however his name eluded her.

  No woman would forget that face. Her inquisitor was soap opera sexy with mocha-colored eyes and skin to match. Only his opalescent sheen gave away his vampire DNA. Clean-cut and neat, he could have marched off a military compound. Many of the Supes held on to the styles of their human eras, keeping their hair longer. Mr. All-You-Can-Be’s body strained to hide underneath the tuxedo. The baby-blue T-shirt he wore at the club revealed biceps she could hang a swing from and abs ready for the wash.

  “Unfortunately, I’m sharing a date tonight, and my grandmother seems to have stolen him away,” she said, giving him a coy smile.

  “Your date must be blind or stupid—maybe both. I would’ve never left your side.”

  “Are you here to rescue me from my loneliness?” She touched the bottom of his sleeve, letting the warmth of her fingers graze his skin. She was here to work the crowd and get information, and she meant to find out all she could about Antione.

  “I can ensure you’re never lonely again.” The heat in his voice hinted at danger. Angel couldn’t complain; this is what she signed up for. “Would you like to dance?” Her suitor bowed, flashing his fangs as she took his hand.

  He wrapped his arm around her waist, much too close for a waltz, and spun her across the room. As they glided over the floor, the coolness of his body transferred to her, causing her to quiver. She raised her voice above the music and said, “I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Forgive my rudeness. It’s Fabian Macion.”

  “Nice to meet you, Fabian. I’m Angelique Dias. Most people call me Angel.”

  His arm tightened around her. “Everyone knows who you are. You’re the hottest thing on the streets right now.”

  Trying to adjust her body into a proper waltz hold, she countered, “I wasn’t this popular even when I made the cover of Vogue.”

  They were on their third song when she begged him to stop. As Fabian spun her around, Angel recognized the cackle behind her. Who the hell invited Isabella? When she turned to see Isabella, she stumbled back into Fabian.

  “What the fuck?” Fabian looked down at her as the words slipped from her lips. “Sorry.” She gave him a half-grin, more of a grimace really.

  On the dance floor, Isabella clung so close to Jacque, Static Guard wouldn’t have released her. With Angel’s fingers digging into Fabian’s arm, she dragged him from the dance floor.

  Jacque’s gaze followed her as she hurried out the room. She had to get away to fight the instinct to scratch out Isabella’s eyes. Poor Fabian shuffled alongside her, oblivious to the madness seeping into Angel’s mind. In the hall, she thanked him for his company and excused herself to the ladies’ room.

  Her breaths came in irregular gasps. The pounding in her heart rushed blood to her head. She fanned back the water welling in her eyes, reminding her she had a job to do. She didn’t have time to worry about Jacque and his tramp. Jacque was such an asshole. She couldn’t believe he had the audacity to bring that bitch with him. She knew this afternoon was a mistake. She was weak, should’ve listened to her instincts.

  Too late to cry over spilled milk, especially if you’re giving it away for free as Gran used to say. If Jacque’s going to parade his skanky ho in my face, I’m goin
g to have as much fun as I can tonight. Game on!

  Chapter Twelve

  The bathroom door swung open and slammed into the wall. Marie jumped out of the way to avoid getting smashed by the dark mahogany panel. As soon as Angel saw Marie, the tears threatened to fall again. She inhaled a deep sigh and faked a smile instead. Her acting classes hadn’t helped her land any commercials when she was modeling. Maybe they’ll be useful in this career.

  Marie watched Angel with concern in her light brown eyes. “I was looking for you, dear. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. Just needed a moment. All’s good.” Angel’s smile showed too much teeth. The same smile she used many years ago when she only dreamed of being a supermodel. Amazing how far reality drifted from the dream.

  “I saw Jacque and Bell. I’m sure there’s a good explanation. But now is not the time to discuss it.”

  “I could care less why he brought her. I’m here to do a job. I don’t have the energy to waste on his bullshit. Excuse my language.” Angel’s chest tightened as she tried to convince herself of her own lie. “Anyway, I told him earlier, I’m out at the first signs of problems. Bringing some floozy with him to a party is about as much trouble as I need. Angel has left the building, and Jacque is free to do as he pleases.”

  Marie eyes twinkled as she spoke. “My, my, don’t we have a temper? You remind me of me, during a younger time in my life. And like you, it was usually a man who brought it to the surface.” She looped her arm through Angel’s and headed back toward the ballroom. The silk of their skirts made a calming swishing noise as they walked.

  Jacque and Isabella floated around the dance floor like feathers caught in the wind. Laurent hurried over to Angel, sweat beading on his forehead. His moist hand grabbed hers when he reached her side.

  “Don’t worry. There’ll be no bloodshed tonight. I’m on my best behavior. See....” She forced a tight grin across her face, so tight it hurt her cheeks.

  “I’m going to talk to him to see what’s going on.” He struggled to hold his voice steady, nervously watching his friend and his sister on the dance floor.