Dark Embrace

Home > Young Adult > Dark Embrace > Page 13
Dark Embrace Page 13

by Angie Sandro


  “It’s extremely creepy, Dena, but for your sake I’m trying to keep an open mind. That’s why you pay me the big bucks—for my objectivity.”

  I frown. “Pay?”

  “After what I had to put up with today, I’m definitely charging for the stress and anxiety you’ve put me through. Don’t worry. I’ll give you a discount.”

  “Great, my own personal bodyguard…” I mutter, looking out the window. We’ve parked in front of my house before I notice Ferdinand’s isn’t the only car in the driveway. I slide lower in the seat. “Oh no, is it too late to turn around? Ugh, he saw us.”

  Anders steps out of his car.

  “Maybe…maybe you could come in for a while,” I stutter, unable to take my eyes from Anders’s clenched fists. He notices me watching and stuffs his hands in his pockets.

  Ferdinand has the nerve to laugh. “Not a chance. You’re on your own.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Sabotage the Control Stick

  I stomp to the door and let Anders in with a wave of my arm. “What are you doing here? No murderers to catch?”

  Anders takes off his jacket and lays it across the back of my armchair, as if he plans to stay awhile. I do the same, suddenly overheated in the corduroy jacket. Tension stiffens the muscles in my shoulders, and I roll them a bit to loosen the strain. Being alone in the same room with Anders scares the hell out of me. He’s so unpredictable. I never know which Anders I’m going to meet: Suspicious Anders or Flirty Anders. Either one plays my body like a well-tuned violin. I’m afraid…no, terrified—not so much of him, as of what I might be tempted to do to him.

  He faces me with his arms crossed. “Charles called—”

  “You and Charles got a thing going? Great, it’ll give Vanessa a taste of how it feels to be cheated on.” His scowl at the interruption deepens to the point where I fear his face might freeze in that expression. I clasp my hands together so I won’t give in to the irrational desire to smooth the lines marring his face. “Sorry; continue.”

  “Charles was in dispatch when Dixie received a 9-1-1 call requesting an ambulance for a Dena—who wasn’t breathing. He was understandably concerned that the call was about you.”

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were also concerned.” I imitate Gabriella’s flirty expression by fluttering my eyelashes in his direction. He stares back stone-faced, and I sigh. “But we both know that sentimentality doesn’t affect the mighty Anders.”

  His own thickly lashed eyelids lower. “I don’t let my emotions interfere with how I conduct my job. Being emotional leads to mistakes. Mistakes get you killed.”

  “Sounds like you speak from experience.” I step closer, studying his face. Damn, he really is handsome. “Have you almost gotten killed?”

  His mouth opens as if he’s on the verge of sharing something profound, and then he shuts it. His expression remains closed, but a distant look enters his eyes.

  I cave to temptation and touch his cheek with the tips of my fingers. “Anders? What happened?”

  He blinks, focusing back on me. The moment’s gone. “I see that reports of your demise were premature.”

  My hand drops into a fist at my side. “Yes, I’m breathing just fine. It must’ve been a prank call.” I hope the lie doesn’t show on my face. “So you’ve done your duty. I’m still alive. Anything else you’d care to talk about? Like the case? Found out anything interesting?”

  “Dr. Estrada called. He said you knew about the chemical he found on your skin. Why were you so resistant to helping him?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be? He blindsided me with needles. Needles,” I emphasize with a shudder. “And he lied to me. I hate liars.” I pause in my tirade, slapped in the face by my own hypocrisy. Hell, I’ve done almost nothing but lie to this man. “Unless there’s a very good reason for the lie. As far as I can tell, Estrada doesn’t have one.”

  “I asked him not to tell anyone about the substance.”

  My eyebrows jump up my forehead. “I don’t understand. Why tell him to keep this information from me? It’s my body. I’m the one being affected by this stuff!”

  Anders raises his hands to halt my advance on him. I hadn’t even realized I’ve moved toward him. Or that my hands are clenching and unclenching.

  His hands circle my wrists, keeping me at arm’s length. “Dena, I’ve been trying to convince you that I’m concerned for your safety for days, but you’ve repeatedly said you don’t trust me.”

  “I don’t trust you for this very reason.” I struggle to pull away. “You knew I was sleepwalking, and not once did you say, ‘Hey Dena, the mystery goop might be causing your problems.’ Nope, didn’t care enough to let me know I’m not going crazy.”

  He tugs on my wrists, and I fall against his chest. His heart races beneath my palm. “Dena, it’s my job to withhold information about an ongoing investigation. I did it to protect you.” He stares into my eyes, no longer concealing his sincerity. “And to protect myself.”

  My own heart speeds to match the flutters in my stomach. I step closer, breathing in his familiar scent. He smells of fall—fresh mown grass with a slight musk like crushed leaves. With each inhale, my chest brushes his. My sensitive nipples harden, and I become hyperaware that only my bra shields my arousal. Warmth spreads from my core to fill my body. My cheeks must glow like lampposts.

  I avert my face, hiding behind my hair.

  Anders releases my wrists and steps back. He blows out a breath. “I don’t know why you rattle me so badly.”

  Rattle? Is he kidding? Unlike me, he’s barely sweating. I can almost see the hamster wheel in his head spinning as he considers how to turn my arousal to his advantage. No matter how often I deny what I’m feeling, my body screams the truth: I want to fuck Anders.

  Right here. My eyes drop to land on the bulge straining the zipper of his trousers. Right now.

  What the hell’s wrong with me? First Ashmael, now Anders. Ever since the alley, my libido has been turbo-charged, like the aphrodisiac effect of the mystery substance still courses through my body. I close my eyes and silently count to ten, trying to regulate my breathing. If I can’t get myself under control, I don’t know what I might say—or do.

  He’s still staring at me. We’re alone.

  Desire surges, and I clutch the back of the sofa, digging my nails into the cloth. Play it off, Dee. Don’t let him see how he affects you. “Okay, fine, Detective. Convince me why I should accept your apology,” I say, pleased my voice doesn’t reflect the strain I’m under. “Gabriella said you think the murderer is stalking me. Why? And shouldn’t you have told me all this yourself?” I grimace, then wave away the accusation. “Ignore that last part. Just explain your reasoning.”

  “Will you sit down and promise to stay calm and hear me out?”

  “Like you, I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” I force a conciliatory smile. “Let’s just agree that if my voice rises to uncomfortable decibels, you’ll make a quick getaway.”

  He studies my face for a long, uncomfortable moment then nods. “How about if I explain what led me to think you’re a target?”

  I motion to the sofa and watch him sit down before I curl up next to him. I wrap the blanket across my shoulders, scrunching down in preparation for what he’ll reveal. He crosses and uncrosses his legs, then leans forward with his elbows propped on his knees.

  I swear if he doesn’t stop fidgeting I’m going to scream.

  As if reading my mind, he meets my eyes. “Okay,” he says, “the fact that you’ve remained silent this long is unnerving.”

  “While normally my main purpose in life is finding ways to sabotage the control stick shoved up your backside, I’m working on my patience today.” I grin, and this time, it’s genuine. “Don’t worry. I swear to be on my best behavior, but you’d best get on with this story before I break.”

  He clears his throat, staring down at his hands, then squeezes them together. “I’m pretty sure Charles revealed the co
ntents of the medical report from Dr. Estrada.” He waves away my murmured protests. “He told you about the incident I was involved in last year…”

  My eyebrows rise in surprise. “You’re giving Charles too much credit for duplicity. The only thing he talked about was how much he admired you. He was all…blah, blah, blah, Anders is Great. The blah, blah part is where I tuned him out. Charles has a serious case of hero worship. I tried to talk him out of it, but he was determined to only mention how respected you are.”

  Anders frowns down at his folded hands. “For once I agree with you, Dena. I’m the last person anyone should admire.” His hands tremble on his lap.

  I lean forward and lay my hand on top of his. “Hey, no fair. Talking smack about you is my job.”

  Anders’s eyes darken, and I shift, uncomfortable with the emotion reflected in their jade and gold depths.

  He lets out a deep breath. “I have…had a partner. We were investigating a string of cold case murders spanning several decades, which were reopened after we linked them to a particular suspect, the so-called Hoodoo Queen of New Orleans. Her web of influence stretched from the lowest street peddler to the mayor’s office. Drugs, guns, money laundering, murder for hire—she controlled the French Quarter. Hell, probably most of Louisiana.”

  “So a mob boss.”

  A hint of a dimple flashes in his cheek. “The Hoodoo Queen wasn’t a typical gangster. She allegedly trafficked in black curses.”

  Is he serious? I nod, as if I understand what he’s talking about. “She sounds scary.”

  “Scary,” he echoes. “Yes. Fear is a huge motivator. With fear of the supernatural—well, for those who believe, she held absolute power over them. People whispered that she controlled an indestructible army of undead. Men whose souls were trapped in their rotting corpses, damned to an eternity of servitude to the Queen. Nobody dared speak her real name, let alone testify against her for fear she’d fix a curse on them. The one informant who did spill, Étienne Thibodaux, disappeared before he could give an official statement. Rumor has it the Queen turned him into her personal zombie slave.”

  My nose scrunches. “Tssh, I don’t believe in zombies. Dead’s dead.”

  He sighs. “Neither did I, but my chief ordered us off the case. Said it was too dangerous. We didn’t listen. My partner got a tip about some big deal going down in Paradise Pointe, involving the Queen. It was outside of our jurisdiction, but we thought we’d finally caught a break. We went in without backup. My partner got killed,” he says in a monotone, almost like he’s reading from a book. Except his cold fingers close around mine. I doubt he realizes he’s holding my hand. “After Jimmy died, I couldn’t let her get away with murdering him. I left New Orleans and got hired by Bertrand Parish Sheriff’s Office so I could keep investigating the link between Paradise Pointe and the Queen. And I finally found out her real name.”

  He glances down. Seeing our fingers intertwined, he removes his hand. “You know what’s ironic? I’d been investigating a dead woman. She died the same night my partner did. Maybe you remember the night of the big earthquake?” At my nod, he continues. “Magnolia LaCroix died in the quake. All of her assets, including the title of Hoodoo Queen, went to her niece…”

  It takes a moment for his words to sink in. Well, hot damn! “You’re talking about Mala.”

  His hostility toward my cousin, and to a lesser degree to me, makes sense now. Of course he’d believe I was capable of casting a spell to burn a man to death if I’m related to the Hoodoo Queen.

  “Malaise LaCroix is the next link in the chain. I need to find out if she’s continuing her aunt’s criminal activities.”

  “Swear to God, she’s not.” I raise my hand in the air. No way. Oh my God, Mala…Does she know her aunt was a criminal? Is this why I’m being stalked? Calm down. Focus. Breathe. First things first. Clear Mala with Anders. “She sold off most of her aunt’s estate. Donated the rest to charity. She’s the most honest person I know.” Unlike me.

  Anders remains silent, studying my face. What does he see?

  “Please believe me. I’m telling the truth.”

  His penetrating gaze drops. “Maybe you’re right, but if not her, then someone else is in charge of Magnolia’s empire. The first three men burned were low-level street thugs, drug addicts. At first I thought they’d gotten caught up in some turf war between rival gangs, fighting over the vacancy left open with Magnolia’s death. Or they were targeted by Magnolia’s people. Then I found your picture on Tolson.”

  “He’d been stalking me, waiting for a chance to catch me alone.” I shudder. The idea of him following me around, taking pictures. It’s unnerving. “At least he’s dead.”

  “He wasn’t the only one following you, Dena. We found the second body outside of a beauty salon, Luscious Locks. It’s on—”

  I lean forward. “Wall Street, it’s where I get my hair done. I go every other month for a trim.”

  Anders nods. “I know. I spoke to your beautician, Bai Sung. She gave me a detailed schedule of when you come to see her. She said she spoke to another man who wanted the same information. He told her he wanted to ask you out. She thought this was fantastic since you’d been celibate for so long.”

  Great, Bai! Thanks for hooking me up with an assassin. My face burns as I meet Anders’s gaze. Can I bury my head under the blanket now? “So basically this guy was lying in wait for my exit from the salon, but the shadow got him first.”

  Anders rolls his eyes at the word “shadow.” “Someone found him. The fourth body was found in an alley beside the hospital with a knife in his hand the morning after your attack. Records show he’d been admitted for observation after he complained of chest pain.”

  My breathing quickens. I flash back to the dream I had in the hospital of a man standing over my bed. Of watching the knife descend toward my chest. The terror returns, surging through my body, and my stomach clenches with nausea. I close my eyes and try not to vomit. “Where was the next body found?”

  “We found him last night, a block over from your house. He died around the same time I found you sleepwalking. This guy was different from the others, a contract killer. He broke into the house behind yours, murdered the couple, but left their baby alive. A neighbor reported the child crying this afternoon.”

  My hands shake. “Why did he break into the house?”

  “We found a sniper rifle in the master bedroom. The window is directly across from your kitchen and bedroom window.”

  “S-So he planned to execute me?” I meet Ander’s eyes in disbelief. “That’s what you think, right? He killed that couple and planned to watch my house until he had the chance to kill me.”

  Anders’s voice is cool. “That’s what the evidence suggests. Only someone stopped him.”

  Another nightmare that’s turned out to be real. The thought of the dead assassin doesn’t bring up a shred of sympathy. He killed my neighbors. Might’ve gone after their baby, only Ashmael stopped him. Saved the baby. Saved me.

  “Dena—” Anders’s voice jerks me back.

  My heart warms as his face fills with sympathy. It’s a new expression for him, but he wears it well enough that it may be genuine. “So my sleepwalking was more of a gift than a curse. It’s lucky I wasn’t inside, right?” I laugh shakily, unsure which of us I’m trying my hardest to convince. I must sound deranged. Nothing he’s said is the least bit amusing. Somebody wants me dead. And they’re willing to go to great lengths to make it happen. “Why keep this from me?”

  “Like I said, I thought Mala was involved. I didn’t trust you, and your association with Magnolia LaCroix’s ex-employees pointed to your complicity.”

  My head’s spinning. Everything he says confuses the hell out of me. This is what comes from wanting to know the truth? Ignorance is bliss. There’s a reason this idiom is still relevant. Same with “knowledge is power”, which is more in line with what I believe. No matter how much I want to, I won’t bury my head under the blanket and
pretend this is all a crazy dream.

  I let out a heavy breath and ask, “What employees?”

  “Ferdinand Laffite and Anton Terrie.”

  Oh, my God! Squirrel. “Wait…Ferdinand? My Ferdinand?”

  “He owns a private security company in New Orleans. Anton was one of his employees. Magnolia LaCroix was Ferdinand’s client. He was in Paradise Pointe with her when she died.” He runs his fingers over a seam in the couch. “He visited you in the hospital right before you woke from the coma, along with Mala, Landry, Magnolia, and Magnolia’s secretary, Sophia. If rumors about Magnolia are true, she brought you back from the dead.”

  “What a load of crap!” I shriek, then dial back the shrill before I lose my voice.

  “Dr. Estrada said you were brain dead. Yet you woke up right after their visit.”

  “Estrada? The idiot misdiagnosed my condition. He was going to kill me. Now he’s covering his ass by lying.”

  “He knows your waking up should’ve been impossible. A miracle.” Anders stares at the ceiling with a frown, and I hold my breath, waiting for what comes next. ’Cause there’s got to be more. I don’t think I can handle anymore.

  “Estrada showed me the CCTV video. Magnolia, Mala, and Sophia went into your room. Landry and Ferdinand stayed in the hall. Then something happened. Landry broke open the door and rushed in.”

  I’m shaking my head no.

  Anders’s lips purse. “If you don’t believe me, ask them. Ask your mother. Pepper was there, too.”

  Pepper never…I rub my burning eyes. Brain dead. She was taking me off life support. Then, holy miracle of all miracles, I woke up. Right after being visited by the Hoodoo Queen of New Orleans.

  My throat feels tight. Like the time I ate squash and almost suffocated from anaphylactic shock. “Dead’s dead. I’m not dead. Or a zombie. Or whatever…” This time it’s Anders holding my hand and me jerking away. “I’m not dead. I’m not.”

 

‹ Prev