“Where the hell did you come from?” Jasmine exclaims, placing a hand over her heart.
Giving her a cheeky grin and evil chuckle, I revel in her startled expression. Ah, the things that amuse me are small, but so worth it. “I got lost,” I eventually admit, to which they all burst out laughing. When everyone has finally stopped laughing, I give them a smug smile. “I did manage to gather some information though, and I’ll tell you all about it, once we’re out of here,” I add before indicating for them to lead the way.
“Not taking any more chances of getting lost?” chuckles Victor, from beside me.
Looking up into his beautiful silvery-green eyes, I return his smile. “Hell no, losing my way in such a small area one time is more than enough, thanks.”
We follow the others back to the minivan. Climb in and buckle up. Cedrix then drives us off to destination unknown.
Chapter 8
Our destination is a little café that serves beignets and coffee. With food and drinks before us, I update everyone on what I’d overheard, ending with hearing someone coming and finding no one around.
“To be honest,” I say, my voice reflecting the confusion I feel, “I’m totally unnerved by the idea of an invisible person, even more than the thought of a voodoo person trying to attack us. Which, if you think about it, is odd,” I finish, scrunching up my face as I try to figure it all out.
Selecting a beignet, I take a bite of it as I look at the others in hope that they will come up with some bright idea that will solve all our problems.
“Mmm, yummy, these are gorgeous,” I mutter between one bite and the next, until finally I’ve devoured it and lick my fingers clean.
“Glad you enjoyed it,” chuckles Cedrix in apparent amusement. In the next instant, he looks and sounds serious. “I’ve been thinking…”
“Oh no, this could be dangerous,” gasps Jezebel in mock horror. A large hand clamps across hers where it lies on the table, silencing her more effectively than anything else could.
I watch her look at the hand and then the owner of it. I can’t help feel slightly in awe of Cedrix, for being able to do something as simple as place his hand over Jezebel’s, without having a reaction from her. Due to her childhood, she’s always tried to limit physical contact with others, and especially men.
The look of pure peace that shines from my friend’s face is wonderful and surprising. Out of the corner of my eye, I spy my sisters-in-arms, gazing in surprise and pleasure at the man who brought calmness and peace to our friend.
“Minx.” Cedrix chuckles, as he looks intently into Jezebel’s eyes. “Seriously though—” Tearing his gaze away, he looks around at us. A flicker of surprise crosses his features, probably due to our reactions to the simple exchange between him and our normally prickly friend.
“Umm…” Shaking his head as if to clear it, he looks at us with a slightly perplexed expression before continuing. “I was wondering if you’d mind if I brought my boss in on…well, everything that has been going on to be honest. He’ll be able to help.”
“Do you trust him?” I ask, even though I’m guessing his answer is yes, otherwise why would he mention his boss.
“With my life. Rob Wiseman is a friend as well as my boss. We served together in the navy SEALs.”
“Then bring him up to date on the situation. If he wants to help, you can introduce us. That way, there’s no pressure on him,” I reply before picking up my mug of coffee and drinking a fortifying sip.
We all chill out for a while longer, just enjoying the time out. I love the atmosphere of New Orleans, the busy relaxedness of it. Even the people who are hurrying toward their destination are doing it in an unrushed way. I must admit; I’m finding it completely fascinating.
Once we’ve all finished eating and drinking, we climb to our feet and join the bustling crowds. We wander around, just enjoying the sights and feel of the place. Cedrix leaves us to head off to have a word with his boss, promising to catch up with us later.
I’m hoping his friend will be with him. We could do with all the help available.
“While we’re on the subject of help and information—” I suddenly blurt out, startling the others.
“Uh-oh, that doesn’t sound good,” mutters Felicity under her breath.
Ignoring her, I carry on, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. “So I was thinking that maybe I should go back to the boat dock and search the buildings, see if I can come up with any information.”
Victor strides over to me, his movements catching my eye, causing me to swallow. He moves with such power and grace, all masculine and strong, yet silently. Again, I get the impression of a fierce black panther stalking its prey. And I’m it!
Stopping directly in front of me, he places two fingers under my chin, forcing it gently yet firmly up, until I make eye contact with him.
“You’re thinking about going on your own, aren’t you?” he growls at me, causing shivers of desire to flicker over my skin, as his voice reverberates around me.
“Yes.”
“Not happening” is his only reply—well, except for the glare he throws me.
“Actually, it is,” I growl back, slapping his fingers away from me, lifting my chin higher to return his glare.
His lips twitch. “How about one person goes with you? Safety in numbers, without there being too many to cause attention.” He strokes the side of my face, as if he can’t help himself.
“Fine, one person, and preferably a shapeshifter, just in case,” I add.
****
Scuttling down the Parisian streets, I can’t help glancing nervously over my shoulder. A feeling of dread and deep unease has stayed with me since fleeing Whitechapel and the Shadow World. Spying a shiver of movement in the alley beside me, I stifle a yelp of alarm.
“The boundaries are breaking. It’s the only explanation. Either that or I’m being haunted by the past.” Rubbing my face tiredly, I look properly into the alley. A slight breeze rustles some loose papers, lifting them and dropping them. Otherwise, all is quiet.
A feeling of exhaustion and despair washes over me, almost bringing me to my knees. Turning away, I hurry to my sister’s apartment as the past assaults my memories. An image of the first man I killed flashes before my eyes. I remember being so excited, when my father informed me he was taking me on my first hunt.
I remember feeling almost giddy at the thought of righting the wrong the couple created with their blasphemous ways. After all, what right did they have to go against The Protectors, and associate with each other in such a scandalous way?
Except, when we arrived to do our duty we only found Killian Reynolds. His wife and child were out. We waited as long as we could until news came forcing us to leave. It took a further three years to find Cynthia Reynolds, and that was the first time I caught a glimpse of her daughter, Candi.
A whimper escapes me as the memories I try to keep buried once more torment me. Shame wraps around, me as guilt once more assails me. Of the thousands I’d been sent to kill, her parents’ deaths are the only ones I regret.
Her heartbroken cries upon finding her mother echo in my memory. I’d watched her, remembered her broken cry of “not again,” as she fell to her knees in anguish and despair. Saw her reach for her mother with trembling hands, her long red hair loose around her shoulders, and despair and pain etch into her beautiful face as tears streamed down it.
Deep in my frozen heart, I knew those cries were also for her father. That she had found both her parents, murdered by my father’s and my hands. In the space of three years we’d destroyed her life. Yet she thrived, became powerful beyond belief, and now she would be sentenced to death…
Chapter 9
Night had fallen, and Jezebel and I are staking out the warehouses around the dock area we were at earlier. She’s prattling on about something, and I can’t for the life of me figure out what it is.
“Will you stop with the abbreviations. It takes me too long to decipher wh
at you’re trying to say. Just say it!” I finally hiss at her in frustration.
“It’s meant to save time,” she grumbles back at me, as she narrows her eyes in annoyance.
“O.F.,” I mutter back, looking slightly over her left shoulder.
“What?”
“O.F. as in ‘Oh Fuck’ we’ve been spotted,” I reply with a groan as I stare up at a tank of a man striding toward us. I mean seriously, he’s huge, both in height and width. I’m positive his muscles have muscles.
Jezebel, ever so slowly turns around to face the fast-moving man, I hear a gulp and a “holy fucking hell” coming out on the barest breath of a whisper as she scoots backward toward me.
“What are you two doing here?” demands a high-pitched voice. My brain stutters in surprise as it tries to make the connection between the man and the voice.
“Say what?” mutters Jezebel in shock, turning to look at me with widening eyes, a hint of devilish amusement sparking to life in her expression.
“Don’t do anything we’ll both regret. He’s still humongous,” I mutter back. “We were out for a run, and stopped to…um, rest for a second,” I reply. I have no idea how I thought my lame ass excuse would help, especially when it doesn’t sound convincing even to me!
“Uh huh, a run. Shouldn’t you be wearing jogging clothes?”
Climbing to our feet, we step back so as not to strain our necks as we look up at all six foot eight inches of towering muscle.
“Normally, we do. It was a spontaneous idea,” Jezebel adds with a grimace.
“Right. Maybe you should both come with me.” He reaches out as if to grab us. We bounce out of his way before his plate-size hands can come in contact with us.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I demand as I dodge his grasping hands.
“You two need to come with me. Now stay still!” whines the formidable giant.
“Sorry, not happening. We were told to never go anywhere with strangers,” splutters Jezebel, trying to control her amusement.
“Oh, well, I’m Archibald Dight. Apparently, my great, great, I’m not sure how many greats, couldn’t pronounce his R’s and our name was written down as Dight instead of Right,” Archibald bemoans to our utter bafflement.
“Okay, why are you telling us this?” I ask, feeling utterly perplexed, as I pause for a split second to gape at him.
“Because now I’m not a stranger, and you can come with me,” he replies, taking another swipe at us.
This time though he manages to grab my shoulder in a bruising grip. I feel a snarl of rage curl my lips. Gathering power, I lash out at him, hitting him squarely in the chest. His hand wrenches from me as he flies back a couple of feet.
Without looking back, Jezebel and I turn around and flee into the underbrush, heading to where we’d left a rucksack hidden between some trees on the other side of the road.
Jezebel quickly strips and transforms into her jaguar form, while I put her shoes and clothes into the backpack, before putting it on my back. I then transform into wolf form, and together we slink away, keeping to the denser underbrush and trees.
After a short distance, we crouch down and watch Archibald crash through the area on the opposite side of the road. He’s making enough noise to wake the dead and a sleepy-looking man exiting one of the buildings.
“What are you doing?” he demands around a huge yawn.
“I’m trying to find them girls.”
“What girls? And why would you think they would be hiding in the underbrush that I can see from here is too short to cover anything bigger than a housecat?” demands the now more alert-looking man as he glances around the area.
“The ones I think the True Prince is after,” whines Archibald, while swiping his arms through the high grass.
True Prince? What is the True Prince, a Prince of?
“Then search in high grass, for fuck’s sake. Find them, for we won’t hear the last of it if we let them slip through our fingers!” declares the other man in a voice of such determination, I know we need to get away now, or we won’t be going anywhere.
Jezebel and I flatten ourselves against the ground, as we watch the man scan the area. Obviously, he’s the brains of the pair. Easing our way backward, we creep away, when at a far enough distance we clamber to our paws and dash away, heading for Jezebel’s car which we’d parked a couple of streets away, just in case of an emergency.
Before we arrive, I transform back into my human form and casually walk to the car with a large black jaguar pacing beside me.
Chapter 10
By the time we’ve rejoined the others, I’m feeling more puzzled by the oddity of the encounter with Archibald Dight, than anything else. Part of me wishes I’d gone with him, to see if I would have learned anything, yet the thought of doing so gives me the heebie-jeebies.
I’m also wondering who the other guy is, and why they were there, especially when everything was closed. None of it makes any sense.
We quickly update the others on our bizarre stakeout, to which we get a couple of snickers when I mention the introduction-so-we-would-go-with-him part.
“Seriously? He introduced himself and gave a little family history, thinking that would make you two go with him?” giggles T.T. in amusement.
“Yeah, he did. It was all so…surreal,” Jezebel replies, looking completely baffled.
“Weird, I’m guessing he’s not all there,” Vivian adds, looking thoughtfully at Jezebel and I, as if this will give her the answers she’s after.
“Actually, I disagree.” Shaking my head, I feel as shocked as the others look by my declaration. At the same time, now that I’m thinking about it, maybe I am on the right track.
“Why do you say that?” Victor, looks at me thoughtfully, leaning casually against the kitchen counter, arms and ankles crossed, a pose of undeniable strength.
“I’m not sure, to be honest,” I reply, shaking my head as if the movement can shake my thoughts into order. “It’s just a feeling and…”
“And…?” asks Victor quietly, yet with a world of intensity in his voice and eyes.
Shaking my head, I admit, “I honestly don’t know. It’s just something…doesn’t add up about the whole scenario.” Thinking about it, I try to think of what caused the iffy feelings about Archibald.
“Because of his size and magickal signature, he kind of reminded me a little of Big Michael…but there was something wrong, almost devious about Archibald,” I finally say slowly, while thinking about the two giant men.
“Who the hell is Big Michael?” demands Nancy in confusion.
“He’s a friend and colleague of mine, helps with demon situations, mainly extracting information from them,” answers Victor while staring intently at me.
“Demons…they’re real?” exclaims Selena in shock.
Nodding my head, I turn to look at Selena. “Yes, they are. Which reminds me, Victor, is there any news on my grandmother’s demon impersonator?”
“Your what?” laughs Janna, in genuine amusement, until she sees my serious expression. “Are you being serious?”
At the same time, Victor answers, “Nothing yet. I must ring him and ask.”
“Sadly, yes, I am,” I reply. “Being serious,” I clarify when I receive blank stares from Janna and a couple others.
“Holy cow, who would have guessed?” mutters Vincent in confusion.
“Strangely enough,” chuckles Jasmine, “that’s exactly what we thought when we found out vampires were real.”
For some reason, I find this comment extremely funny. Maybe it’s because two vampires are in the room, one of which I’m sleeping with. Or my poor brain just needs a lighter moment after everything that has happened over the last few months.
What with returning home to Paradise Falls, finding a dead body, meeting Kheda and Victor, solving more murders, then Victor’s bar being blown up, my grandmother going bad, which still sounds strange just thinking about it.
Hunting
for the Prophecy and finding an entrance into the Shadow World. Disappearing and ending up in the past and back again, including one time butt naked! And if all that wasn’t enough, we then found the Daphmire Janna and Vincent, Victor’s childhood best friend and vampire brother, and rescued Roísín. Yeah, a good laugh is just what I need.
I can’t help it; I burst out laughing and can’t stop, even when I have tears running down my face and a stitch in my side.
Thankfully, the others seem to find the comment just as funny, either that or me gasping like a fish out of water sets them off. Though it could also be the release of the past stress affecting them too.
Cedrix arrives, and upon seeing us all in different stages of laughter, he looks slightly perplexed. I wonder why he looks worried between gasping for air and catch sight of a large man following him into the kitchen.
Finally, we slowly gain control of ourselves. Wiping tears of laughter from my face, I gain enough control to admit, “I needed that. I feel so much better now.”
“I gather from what little Cedrix told me you’ve all had a stressful time. By the looks of you all, you really did need that laugh.” Strolling into the kitchen, the man looks at all of us, assessing each one of us in a couple of seconds.
His voice surprises me, as the deep bass has an almost honey texture to it. Soothing yet firm, instilling confidence yet at the same time, it has a do-not-fuck-with-me tone ringing loud and clear through it.
Standing straight, I look at him carefully. He’s at least six foot three with ebony skin that encases well defined muscles. Wearing faded blue jeans and a plain V-neck t-shirt, he looks relaxed, yet his no-nonsense steel-capped boots let me know that he’s ready for anything. Well, that and his navy-blue eyes and predatory walk. This is a man who can handle himself and probably any situation thrown at him.
“Yes, we have,” I answer his question. “So, Rob Wiseman, may I call you Rob? What exactly has Cedrix told you about us and what’s been happening?”
“You may call me Rob, and nothing specific. Cedrix only asked me to come and meet you all, and informed me it would be best if one of you explained the situation.”
The Protectors Page 3