by Nancy Gideon
And if that left her in cold and lonely sheets, she’d gladly make that sacrifice. So, she told herself, as her palm smoothed over the empty space beside her.
* * * * *
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Roused by the sound of pounding on her front door, Amber sat up, squinting toward her clock.
4:30? She took a quick, precarious breath. Rico?
Hating the way her heart knocked frantically as she whipped on her robe in a race for the door, she glanced quickly toward the couch. Though awake, Evangeline lay motionless within her covers, waiting direction as she’d been taught.
Kitchen tiles were cold beneath her bare feet. Colder hands reached for the light switch, illuminating a male figure on her porch. But not the silhouette she expected to see. Pulling a blade from the knife block on her counter, Amber eased open the door without releasing the chain.
“Let me in. It’s cold.”
“Augie?”
Unsteady hands fumbled with the chain. She stepped back quickly as the bundled figure pushed past her into the warmth of the kitchen. After a careful glance into the darkness to make sure he was alone, Amber re-latched the door and turned on the shadowed figure with a hissed, “What are you doing here?”
“What? No hug for your baby bro?”
“Were you careful?”
“Geez, Am. I wasn’t followed. I know better.”
“What do you want?”
“To see you and my little angel. Do you need another reason?”
“At four in the morning? Yeah, I think I do.”
She clicked on the stove light to gage his expression, not that it would tell her anything he didn’t want her to know. Part of her was eager to see those features she’d once loved so completely. The wiser part expected to find them battered beyond recognition as they’d often been at this hour.
Amber hadn’t seen her younger brother by three minutes since Evangeline was eight years old. They hadn’t separated on good terms, him sneaking out in the middle of the night, stealing all the money she’d managed to save, leaving her to face his creditors the next morning. It had taken her two years of working extra shifts to square his debts, and a hopeful grin wouldn’t erase that caution.
But love trumped lessons learned. He filled her arms the instant they opened, fitting against her now the way he always had, as the other half of her whole world.
“Uncle Augie?”
He stepped back, pulled by that tentative call, waiting for his sister’s nod before going to kneel beside the couch. “It’s me, Angel. Do you remember me?”
The fragile catch in his voice quickened a burn in Amber’s eyes. Her brother had doted on her child, and vice versa. When he’d disappeared, he’d broken more than just her own heart. He’d taught her little girl the same hard lesson she’d been burdened with. Not to blindly trust in those you loved.
“Of course, I do.”
That’s all it took for years to evaporate and Evangeline to fill her uncle’s open arms.
Watching her brother and daughter together, pride and panic combined for a bitter cocktail. They looked so similar, fair, slight, and naively helpless, stirring protective instincts that formed the unbending backbone of who she was.
“Where have you been? Why did you leave?” A young pre-teen’s questions with a sharp adult point.
Amber braced for the answers.
Augie leaned back, his hand fondly mussing Evangeline’s hair. “I had to become a better man so I could be part of the family you deserve. I came back to help your mama for a change.”
Amber froze as his gaze lifted to hers, holding firm against the desire to believe the way her daughter did, because she wasn’t a child anymore and she couldn’t afford to have faith he’d changed on his say so alone. Her narrowed eyes delivered that fact, dimming his smile but not his enthusiasm. He turned back to his niece with a barrage of reacquainting questions. Before they got too carried away, she crossed to them and placed a firm hand on her brother’s shoulder.
“Where are you staying?”
“I’m in transit. Haven’t made arrangements yet.”
No big surprise there.
“Evie, you need more sleep. Go climb in my bed and let your uncle take your covers for the rest of the night. He’ll be here when you wake up.”
“I didn’t mean to put you out,” Augie began.
Of course he did, or he wouldn’t have shown up unannounced. The look she gave her brother settled the issue. “Go on, baby.”
With another squeezing hug, Evangeline slipped off the couch and into her mother’s room, leaving a tense mood behind.
“You’ll be here when she gets up.” It wasn’t a request.
“Of course, I will. I’m here to get to know her. And for both of you to get to know me.”
“I know you. You break her heart, I’ll break your neck.”
His smile wavered, taking a wry twist because he believed that statement more than the one that followed.
“Welcome home.”
* * * * *
Into the lion’s den.
Rico stepped inside the ratty trailer that served as office for Philo Tibideaux, dock foreman and leader of the Patrol, the self-appointed protectors of the Shifters in New Orleans. The interior and the man were surprises.
From the well-worn outside view, he’d expected both to be unkempt and ragged. While not Better Homes & Gardens tidy, the space gleamed from well-organized care as did Tibideaux with his close-cropped red hair, smooth shave, tidy khaki camp shirt and pressed chinos. The unmated male in Rico recognized someone with a better half at home. But there was no mistaking the tall, lanky Shifter for a desk jockey. Wide shoulders and ample biceps bulged against restraining cotton, and a knifepoint stare got right to business.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever had a conversation with a Terriot that didn’t start and end in bloodshed.”
“Happy to be the exception,” Rico promised, taking the offered chair and an enamel-stripping cup of coffee, sipping cautiously beneath the narrowed gaze of the other.
“What are you doing here?”
“Choking down this battery acid to be polite.”
“What are you doing here in my city, muscling in on my Patrol?” he clarified.
“Hey, I was invited, slick. If you got a problem, hash it out with your recruiters. They said you had a morale issue and needed someone who knew how to train attack dogs to heel. If I’m stepping on your toes, I’d be happy to back off.”
Their stares held in challenge then Tibideaux chuckled. “You got guts, I’ll give you that.”
“I got handed them instead of brains, so you don’t have to worry about me running some game on you and yours. What you see is what you get.”
“And what’s that, Terriot? More trouble I don’t need? You gonna mix it up like your brother? I don’t need more short crews while bones mend.”
“I’m not saying I’ll go easy on your boys. That’s not my way. Some’ll get bruised and more’ll get riled, but I’ll make something of them that’ll put the fear of perdition in whoever thinks to cross into your territory uninvited.”
Tibideaux continued to eye him suspiciously for a long moment then simply nodded. “We got plenty of talent, plenty of enthusiasm, but not a lot of focus. We need to turn that from our internal squabbles to our real enemy. We got several groups here, and none of them want to work with the others. How you planning to fix that?”
Good question. “I’ll start with the group leaders, get them on program, then they can pass it down through their ranks.”
“And they’ll listen to you? Follow you?”
“I don’t plan to give them a choice.” He showed his teeth in a less than friendly gesture. “You pick your top dozen. I’ll need an empty place to work and no interference. It’s my way or I take the highway.”
Tibideaux’s reluctance remained apparent. “Whatchu gonna need to work with?”
With three fingers looped through the heavy handle
, Rico smashed his ceramic mug on the edge of the table, pressing the jagged edges to Tibideaux’s throat before he could finish swallowing.
Voice low and cool, he replied, “I pretty much use whatever I have available to get the job done.”
Tension passed on a rapid heartbeat. Then Tibideaux smiled. “Then I’ll leave you to get it done . . . slick.”
* * * * *
Adrenaline pumped, the last thing Rico wanted to do after tearing through a hefty Plantation Breakfast with a pecan and powder-covered Callas Cake at the Old Coffee Pot was return to his empty apartment while it settled. It was too early to find Amber at Cheveux du Chien. He wanted to impress her with his decision and sudden new focus, to watch admiration warm her dark eyes and make her smile. Her respect meant more to him than the guarded acknowledgement of his brother.
He found himself on her narrow side street, guiding his idling bike over to the mucky gutter, about to cut the engine when her side door opened. The gladness jumping in his chest plummeted like a meteorite to smash on contact. Because she wasn’t alone.
A man, his face shadowed by the hood of his sweat jacket, came out on the tiny stoop beside her. She stepped into his embrace, hugging him with obvious emotion.
Lowering his helmet’s visor to conceal his shock, Rico eased away from the curb so as not to draw their notice.
* * * * *
An hour later, Rico waited, still tense and moody, inside a cavernous warehouse, leaning back against a single six-foot table as he worked a steel baton in figure-eights around his fingers. They gathered slowly, at a distance, eyes gleaming silver in the dim light, wary, angry males, with the exception of the three who’d recruited him. He knew what they saw—an enemy, an outsider, a threat to their autonomy whose diamonds flashed arrogantly with each assessing tip of his head. And he wasn’t about to prove them wrong.
He gestured with his fingers for them to come closer. “Don’t be shy. I won’t bite . . . hard,”
“What’re you doing here, Terriot?” one of them growled as they edged closer.
“Your boss asked me to take you all to school. Class just started. You don’t wanna be here listening to the likes of me, I get that. You wanna leave? All you have to do is take this from me and you’re free to go.”
“Your brother ain’t here to back you,” another sneered.
Rico stood away from the table, and they took a collective step back, all edgy caution. He slipped off his jacket, revealing an impressive display of sculpted muscle beneath the baggy tank top he wore.
The baton circled lazily as he drawled, “I don’t need my brother to deal with the likes of you boys. C’mon. What are you waiting for? Don’t think the twelve of you can handle one Terriot? Must be something you want evens for, some relative we’ve killed, some sister we’ve screwed,” his tone lowered, adding silkily, “. . . or mother.”
They rushed him, a ferocious tide. A press extended the ends of his baton. With a quick spin, Rico knocked them back then hacked and jabbed his way through their number until those who weren’t stretched out bloody on the floor were willing to concede to the rumors they’d heard. A Terriot prince was a fighter of mythic elevation, unstoppable, unconquerable and, they were to a man out of their league.
Slipping his coat back on, untouched by their greater number, Rico drawled, “That’s all for today. Now that we know whose top dog, I want you all to think on why the dozen of you, who couldn’t take out one Terriot, believe they’re a match for hundreds who’ll be coming down from the North. I’ll see you tomorrow, and if you don’t have an answer by then, I guess we’ll just have to start all over again.”
When Rico started forward, those still standing backed away, eyes lowered, jaw muscles working resentfully. He walked out, paying them no mind or respect.
Chapter 5
She was at the bar setting up for her shift. The restlessness twitching through Rico’s nervous system instantly settled at the touch of her smile. Instead of claiming his usual spot at the rail, he nodded and joined T-Ray, who sported a healthy bruise on his jaw, at one of the tables. A new waitress came to take their order, but he was too moody appreciate her flirtations. T-Ray had no such difficulty, offering a teasing grin and an encouraging wink. Rico only half listened to his playful banter, his attention on Amber as she took a call on her cell. Seeing her features tighten in a frown as she turned her back to the room was all the invitation he needed.
As he slid onto his usual stool, Rico caught the fierce undertones in her quiet conversation.
“What do you mean you can’t? She’s counting on you. How could you do this? You promised things would be different. My sitter has already made other plans. No. She can’t be there alone.” An exasperated sigh. “No! Don’t you apologize!”
Amber ended the call and turned at the same time, her expression anxious and angry. She froze when she saw his expectant smile.
“Hey. Trouble?”
She took a breath to deny it then her shoulders fell in defeat. “No. Yes. I was counting on someone to help me out and it fell through.” She rubbed at her eyes in frustration. “I should have known better.”
“Anything I can do?”
She started to brush of his offer then regarded him more intently. “What do you know about twelve-year-old girls?”
He held up his hands. “Absolutely nothing.”
That earned a reluctant chuckle and another troubled frown.
“This have to do with your daughter?”
Rubbing the tension lines on her forehead, Amber admitted, “I had someone who was supposed to be there when she got home from school, but they cancelled on me. Jacques’s not here today, so I can’t leave. I hate to have her come here to do her homework, but I guess I don’t have much choice.”
The words just tumbled out. “I could watch her.”
She started to wave off his offer then studied him for a long moment. “Are you serious?”
“If you need me to be. Girls like me.” He grinned, and the first shadow of a smile played about her lips. “She knows me, so it wouldn’t be like trusting her to a stranger. What would I have to do? Make sure she studies, eats her vegetables and doesn’t fool around with boys?”
Amber beamed at him. “You’d really do this?”
“Sure.” He shrugged. “Not like I have plans. How hard can it be?”
Her hand fit over his for a firm squeeze that hugged him all over.
“Thank you, Frederick. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.” Quickly, as if afraid he’d change his mind, she rummaged through her purse beneath the counter and gave him an extra housekey. “I won’t be too late. Not past eight or nine.”
“We’ll be fine,” he promised, confident in his ability to charm the near teen.
Until the girl in question regarded him with a stare as friendly as a double-barreled shotgun where he sat on her couch.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, making a quick visual search of the premises as her scowl deepened. “Where’s my uncle?”
“Uncle?”
She dropped her bookbag on the kitchen table and glared as if he was responsible for the notable absence.
“We were supposed to hang out until my mom gets home. He was supposed to be here.” Her tone stated that Rico was a less attractive option.
The guy at the door that morning. Her uncle. Amber’s brother, not a boyfriend. Not a sleepover. Rico’s mood soared, but he trod on the girl’s hopes gently. Such a cute little thing with her big blue eyes and willful pout, reminding him of Colin’s baby sisters. He could do this.
“He couldn’t make it. Something really, really important came up at the last minute, so he had to break your date. He’s very sorry. He wanted to spend time with you but couldn’t get out of it. I offered to fill in. You don’t have to pretend to like it, or me. I’m just second string, helping out your mom.”
She scowled at him, reading his eagerness to please, and not above taking advantage of it. “He was going
to take me shopping,” she pouted.
Ah! Something he understood. “I like shopping!”
She was unconvinced. “He was going to pay.”
Rico grinned. “I have money, and I love to spend it on pretty girls.”
Her expression lifted. “Really?”
“Homework first. I need to check with your mom to make sure it’s okay.”
Her mood darkened, but only for an instant. “She knows all about it. Uncle Augie told her we were going to the mall.” Then she sighed dramatically. “But if you don’t want to.”
“No. Sounds like fun. You hit the books then we’ll hit the stores.”
“Deal.” Evangeline James grinned and dumped her backpack.
* * * * *
The sound of the door opening was accompanied by her daughter's laughter. Amber's maternal compass swung from panic to a polar north of outrage.
They entered the kitchen juggling at least a dozen parcels emblazoned with the names of trendy mall stores, faces flushed from the whip of the wind and eyes bright with enjoyment. She tore into their good time, teeth gnashing.
"Where have you been? No note, no call. I've been out of my mind with worry."
Rico regarded her innocently. "We went shopping. The girl knows how to work a mall!"
"I don't know where she learned that particular skill since she's not allowed to go there."
His expression fell. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."
Amber looked from her daughter's carefully blanked face to the shiny bags as if they represented Original Sin. "How are we going to afford this, Evie? What were you thinking?"
As the sharp crack of her tone crushed the girl's high spirits, Rico took an interceding step between them. "It's my fault. We were having fun and got carried away. The money's not important. It's my treat."
"Not important." Those two words filleted the skin off him. "Maybe not to someone like you who could blow his nose on those receipts. I'm sure you wouldn't have blinked if she'd picked out a bright-blue convertible to match the color of her eyes. But that's not how we live here in the real world. And we don't take extravagant gifts from strangers!"