by Vivi Dumas
Her dark eyes met his. “Hey, what’s going on?”
“Nothing. My brother’s just bad news.”
“How bad can he be?”
“The last time I saw him we fought because he hit my mother.” Jacque clenched his fist, remembering the outline of Xavier’s hand imprinted on his mother’s cheek.
Angel’s arms encircled his waist, providing him a safety net to discuss a topic he avoided for centuries. “I’m so sorry.”
“Xavier has a lot of power. He’s good. Shit, better than good at what he does. He’s most people’s last resort. The person you call when nothing else worked.”
“There’s only one of him. There’s no way he can get through all of us.”
“He’s strong. I couldn’t take him. It took me two weeks to heal from our fight.”
“You’re more experienced. You were the commander of the legions. And we got everyone else to help.”
Jacque appreciated her support. He was the man, the one who was supposed to be doing the saving. “He’s like a supernatural special ops soldier. You never know when he’ll strike. You and the others can’t ever be alone. Okay?”
She played with the curls at his nape. “Of course. When are we ever alone now?”
“No, I’m serious. Don’t leave the house without me. Promise.”
“Sure.”
“And none of the others either. He doesn’t care who he hurts.”
She pushed the hair back out his face and kissed him again, this time on the lips. The sweet taste of Moscato and chocolate lingered in her mouth. He drew her near, ravaging the plush softness of her lips.
“Hate to interrupt.” Isabella’s voice jarred him out of his rapture. He forgot about the others in the room. After filling everyone in on as much information he had about Xavier, they retired to their rooms.
The group would be on high alert until Xavier was caught.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Preparations for the meeting were in full swing. It was two hours away and five women getting ready was a challenge. They took over the left wing of the second floor as their dressing space. As Angel finished her hair, the maid entered the room carrying a large box.
“Pour vous, Mademoiselle.” Angel’s French was limited, but sufficient enough to understand the package was for her.
“Oh, thank you. Do you know who sent it?” Angel questioned, taking the box from her.
The woman shook her head, never making eye contact with Angel. “Non, just delivered to the door. No card.”
Angel set the box on the bed and the others gathered around. Nat pushed Angel towards the box. “Open it!”
“Okay. Geesh. Gimme a minute.” She lifted the lid and removed the delicate paper lining the box. Inside laid the most exquisite dress Angel had seen in a long time. She spun around like a little girl, holding the lavender and silver creation against her.
Cecelia fingered the tissue paper thin overlay of silver netting on the dress. “Oh cher, it’s beautiful. You’re such a lucky girl. Jacque’s a very thoughtful boy.”
“I can’t believe he got this for me. It must’ve cost a fortune.”
“Shit, I’m gonna have to find me a hook-up at this meeting if this is the kind of gifts monster’s give,” Jazzy commented as she twisted her long black hair.
Angel wiggled into the dress with the help of Marie. She dug out the silver Valentino pumps from her suitcase. It was the perfect combination.
The ladies checked themselves in the mirror one last time and went downstairs. Isabella lounged against the bar in her blood-red gown, resembling the devil Angel knew she was. As much as Angel hated to admit, Isabella was gorgeous.
“I feel honored to be surrounded by such beauty,” Etienne announced proudly, extending his arm out to Jazzy. She hesitated a moment before taking it.
“Where’s the rest of the guys?” Angel asked, disappointment written on her face.
“They went ahead to check security and make sure everything is okay.”
“Oh, okay,” she answered, her dissatisfaction more pronounced. She wanted to thank Jacque for the dress.
“We have the guards who’ll follow us.” Etienne and Jazzy led the way to the car.
***
The bellman for Le Pavillon hotel opened the car door. Etienne exited, and helped the women out the car. The four guards flanked them as they moved toward the lobby doors. The main entrance was a flurry of activity. Cars arrived with elegantly dressed people. The women looked ready for New York Fashion Week, the men, a photo shoot for a tuxedo ad. Angel absorbed her surroundings, enjoying the atmosphere of posh luxury.
Angel and the other women poised under the portico and chatted as they waited for Etienne to speak with some guests.
“Hey, who’s the fine brother over there?” Nat asked, pointing to a stunning brunette who stepped out of a stretch SUV.
Angel met his gaze and hauntingly familiar green eyes stared back at her. “I don’t know.” She spun around to ask Isabella, only to find her up to her usual games, pushing up on some hottie beside the gilded doorway.
“Aw, shit, he brought a whole frigging harem with him. I guess he’s a lost cause.” Jazzy scouted the crowd for a new target.
“I’m sure you’ll find somebody if you really want. If you open your eyes, you’ll realize you already have someone.”
Jazzy put her hand on her hip and tilted her head to look at Angel. “What do ya mean?”
“I mean Etienne. He’s had the hots for you since I introduced you at the club.”
She contemplated the idea, dimples forming as her lips turn up into a smile. “Ya think?”
Angel scanned the crowd, trying to find someone she knew. “I know.”
“He’s not bad looking. Shit, he’s fine. I’m still not sure about the non-human thing, plus he’s a vampire. Kinda creeps me out. Maybe someone who won’t want to drink my blood will be easier.” She giggled.
“I doubt he’ll try to drink your blood.”
“Hey, the cutie from the car is coming our way,” Nat whispered.
A gnawing sensation ached in the bottom of Angel’s stomach. Something was off, but she couldn’t pinpoint the problem.
“Evening, ladies.” The gorgeous specimen of man bowed, greeting them with a dazzling smile.
“Hi.” Angel returned his greeting as the entourage of beauties closed in on him.
“You must be the Angel I’ve heard a lot about.”
“Oh.” Heat brushed her cheeks. “Why, yes. And you are?” The heat transferred to her belly, creating an uncomfortable burning sensation.
“It saddens me you don’t know who I am. I would’ve thought someone might have told you about me.” His face was expressionless, devoid of emotions.
Angel strained her eyes past the stranger. He stood as tall as Jacque, which not many men could say. She scanned the crowd for Etienne or someone she knew. The guards watched from a short distance. They didn’t seem alarmed.
“I’m sorry. I don’t think they have. I would’ve remembered if someone told me to look out for someone tall and good looking.” The familiarity kept bothering her. She knew his face, those eyes. Shit!
“My brother still has to work on his strategy. I know he expected me. I’ve no idea why he would leave you unprotected.”
A crash sounded close to the lobby doors. Etienne staggered to the wall to steady himself. Movement flashed too quickly for Angel to recognize what happened. The tall brown-skinned guard shoved her to the ground as the blade of Xavier’s dagger sliced into his torso.
As the injured guard hit the floor beside her, she grappled for the gun strapped to his side. Freeing the .9mm pistol, Angel squeezed off two rounds where Xavier last stood. She dug her heels into the ground and used her free hand to push off the ground. She scanned the crowd for Xavier. She lost him. Angel hoped she didn’t miss her target. The wound might not kill him depending on the location, but the silver bullets would slow him down for a while.
An
gel screamed for everyone to run. The females Xavier brought with him were fierce fighters. The guards struggled to restrain them. Mayhem broke loose as Angel attempted to decipher friend from foe. Everyone under the portico joined in the battle.
The women scrambled for the limo. A brown-haired woman, wearing the blue dress, caught Faith by the arm.
“Faith!” Angel’s heart pounded in rhythm with her footsteps. Angel thought about firing off a shot only stopping when the risk of hitting Faith caused her hand to tremble.
The bitch in blue held Faith around the throat, flashing her sharp fangs in a cocky smile. “I suggest you get in the SUV if you want your sister unharmed.”
Angel’s hand shook with fear and anger. She gripped the .9mm with both hands, trying to keep it steady. “You let her go or you’ll never leave here alive.”
“You have no leverage to argue, bitch. Get in the SUV.”
Angel and the vampire circled one another.
The others sat in the car, witnessing the showdown unfold.
“Get the hell outta here,” Angel screamed at the car. “Shut the door and go.”
Marie jumped out the car and shut the door. The driver sped off, screeching the tires as he cornered the turn.
Kicking a decapitated guard out of her way, Marie picked up the sword lying on the ground. Angel focused back on the dark-haired vampire, holding her sister hostage. With one swift, blurry movement, the vampire and Faith faced Angel and Marie.
“I see you’re well, Marie. The last time I saw you, they were sealing you in a crypt.” The vampire tightened her grip on Faith.
Marie welded the sword in both hands ready to attack. “You always picked the wrong crowd to hang with, Susanna. Let my granddaughter go, and we can all walk away from here.”
“Oh, you won’t be beheading anyone today. Tell the ugly one to get in the SUV. We’re going on a little trip.”
Angel trembled and tears threatened to fall. “Bitch, you will let my sister go.”
“As you wish.” The light reflected off the blade as she unsheathed it from her hip. Before Angel could move, the vampire rammed the knife into Faith’s back.
Faith’s body slid to the ground with a pool of blood spreading around her. Angel stood frozen, concreted in place, too devastated to move.
The vampire howled as Marie ran the length of the sword through her abdomen. Angel steadied her aim, as the feeling returned to her limbs, and unloaded the clip into the vampire’s pretty face. There was no need for decapitation.
Angel and Marie both fell to their knees. Angel gathered her sister into her arms. “We’re going to get you help.” The words choked her.
Her breathing fluctuating as she clutched on to Angel. “No, Ang. It’s too late,” Faith whispered.
“No. We can get some help. One of the vamps can give you blood.” Angel rocked her sister in her arms. “Please, Grand-mère. Help her!”
“I was born a human, and I’ll die a human, even if it’s today.” Faith closed her eyes, relaxing in Angel’s arms.
Angel’s tears dropped on Faith’s face. “I can’t lose you.”
“I’ll always be with you, like I’ve been since you were born.”
Angel stared down at her sister, empty and scared. “Who’ll take care of me? Who’s going to love me now?”
“Oh, sissy. You have a lot of people who love you. You have to remember to love yourself. You’ve always had the answer to your own problems. Be brave enough to look for them.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Angel sought Marie for clarity. She only shrugged in reply.
Faith laid her hand over Angel’s heart. Angel covered it with her own, wishing she could turn back time. “You went out to retrieve your beauty, never realizing it was always within you.”
Marie leaned over and hugged them both. Angel shuddered as she rocked, clutching Faith to her. Faith’s body went limp. Her eyes stared blankly at the dark sky. The one constant in Angel’s life was gone.
The sounds of Angel’s screams ripped through the night and pierced her heart.
Chapter Thirty
Jacque barreled out the lobby doors. He felt her pain before he heard her cries. Her anguish ripped holes inside his heart. He fought his way to Angel, slashing down anyone who stood in his way.
She sat with her dress sprawled on the ground, covered in blood. She held Faith in her arms, crying and rocking softly. Angel leaned her head into the crook of Marie’s neck, as the woman hugged her close.
The battle ensued around them. It was a picture of calm serenity in the fury of madness. A large blond ghoul fell into Jacque. He kicked him in the small of his back, propelling him forward. Laurent caught the ghoul, ran his blade through him, and severed his head. Jacque spotted Etienne farther down the drive trying to detain a thrashing female vamp. He reached Angel’s side as a young vamp lunged for them. He seized his neck, snapping it clean. He threw his remains by the potted palms.
Jacque crouched down next to Angel. “Babe, we have to leave.”
“I won’t leave her.” She latched onto Faith’s dead body
“I know you’re hurting. I feel your pain. We’ve got to haul ass. You have to let her go.” He pried her arms loose and scooped her off the ground. “Marie, come on. I’ll make sure Faith gets back.”
Marie reluctantly complied when Jacque nudged her with his foot. He carried Angel to a waiting car. The driver jumped when he shoved Marie into the back seat.
“We’re going to Etienne’s house on St. Charles Ave,” Jacque barked. “But I’m suppose to wait for—”
“You have new passengers now. Drive!” he directed the driver, slapping the back of the seat.
The driver stepped on the gas. They reared back into the seat as the car took off. Jacque laid Angel’s head in his lap, trailing his fingers down her face. Her body quivered with her silent tears. Marie stared out the window, lost to the darkness.
Halfway to Etienne’s, Jacque asked, “Where’s Elise and the girls?” In the rush to get Angel to safety, he forgot about them.
“The car took them back to the house. We got them out safely once the fight started,” Marie mutter, her forehead resting on the window.
“Okay, at least they got out with no problems.”
When they arrived at the house, Jacque carried Angel upstairs and laid her on the bed. He removed her dress and wiped the blood off her arms and face.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
“For what, babe?”
She was fixated on the dress, her voice flat and distant. “For ruining the beautiful dress you got me.”
“What dress? I didn’t get you a dress.” Jacque thought the conversation odd, figured her grief confused her.
“I assumed it was from you when the maid brought it earlier.” Her empty eyes focused on him.
“Don’t worry about the dress right now. You get some rest. I’ma check on everyone and be back.”
He kissed her, lingering close for a while longer. As he left the room, a pang of jealousy washed over him, wondering who sent the dress. Downstairs in the parlor, panic kicked in when he saw the expression on Marie’s face.
“What’s wrong?” he inquired, taking a seat next to her on the sofa.
Nervously, she fidgeted with the silky fabric of her gown. “I can’t find the girls or Elise.”
“I thought you said the car brought them back here.”
“We put them in the car. I assumed they were brought back here.” Big brown eyes, reminding him of Angel’s, met his gaze. Water welled in them, catching the light from the chandelier.
“Where else would they go?”
“I don’t know? Home, maybe?”
He dreaded bearing more bad news. “I’ll get Angel to call and find out.”
“I don’t have a good feeling about this.” Marie twisted the fabric of her gown.
“I don’t either. Who was around when you got to Le Pavillon?”
“I don’t know. Your brothe
r tried to take Angel when the fight broke out. She shot at him. He disappeared before we could figure out what happened to him.”
Jacque jumped from his seat. “Xavier was there?”
“Who’d you think was behind this?”
“I haven’t slowed down enough to think. Fuck!” he shouted, slamming his fist into the wall, cracking the plaster.
Marie waved him off. “Go get Angel.”
Jacque hurried up stairs. Angel sat on the floor, in her bra and panties, with her head in her hands, her eyes red and puffy. When he stepped into the room, she pushed her hair back and wiped the tears with the back of her hand.
“Babe?” He crouched down in front of her, gently caressing her arms.
“Yeah, what’s up?” she asked in a raspy voice.
“I need your help. I’ma get you some clothes and we’re gonna head downstairs. Okay?”
“Yeah. What’s wrong?” Angel’s questioning eyes looked up at him.
He dug through her suitcase and found some sweats and a T-shirt. “We’ll discuss it downstairs. Here. Put these on.” He lifted her off the floor. She held on to him as she put on her clothes, her body weak, limbs uncoordinated. The fragility of her mental state was a concern. He wasn’t sure how much more bad news she could handle before she broke. Jacque picked her up and carried her downstairs.
“I can walk,” she protested.
He gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “I want you close to me.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and eased against him. He inhaled the lingering bouquet of her perfume tainted with the hint of blood.
Etienne, Laurent, and Damon leaned with their backs to the bar. They passed a bottle of Dewar’s from one hand to the other. It must have been bad when Etienne—Mr. Etiquette—drank straight from the bottle. Isabella slumped on the sofa in her tattered gown. Her blonde hair, torn from its pins, straggled loosely about her head. The two younger Boudreaux brothers slouched back-to-back on an ottoman.