Dark Angel (An Angel Novel Book 2)

by Jane West

  Gray smoke curled from the grill’s blaze, and a sweet aroma drifted our way. Whatever they were cooking, it smelled delicious.

  Mirroring my same concerns, Jeffery spoke up. “I think I might best sit in this nice car.” He hugged his basket close to his chest. “Them folks ain’t the sort to take kindly to me or my exquisite caviar. As lovely as I am, I gotta sneak-n suspicion, they’d prefer eat-n me rather than the fish eggs.” Jeffery’s lips tightened, carefully eye-balling our new acquaintances.

  Val teased, “They don’t bite, bro. But they might take those nasty eggs and use ‘em for baiting gators.” Then he winked at me.

  Jeffery almost shrieked. “I say hell to the no! No ugly mofo beast is gonna touch my Beluga Caviar! It was near impossible to get these lovely black eggs. They’re sorta off the market, if you get what I mean.” He yammered on. “Don’t think I won’t hurt a bitch! Uh-hmm, I ain’t playin’.” He snapped his fingers and bounced his head in a rhythmic motion.

  Val burst into laughter. I stifled mine, just a little. Then I had to say my worries too. “Jeff, does have a point. These folks seem a bit sketchy.” They reminded me of the folks at The Devil’s Den where I was nearly raped.” I counted ten people—seven men and three women. I spotted bikes parked on the other side of the dirt drive. By the jackets that clung to their chest, it was safe to assume these locals belonged to a biker’s gang, a type you didn’t want to cross or meet in a dark ally. Rough folks in this neck of the bayou had a particular skill of bad. Not even a genetically altered angel wanted to cross these Louisianans.

  I glared at Val, full of sarcasm. “Gee, I feel overdressed.” Val’s eyes combed over me from head to toe, amusement glued to his face.

  I guess my raggedy jeans and scuffed-up boots might be over the top for his friends. My friend here, Jeffery, was really going to make an impression, looking like he’d just stepped out of an old black-and-white movie, starring James Cagney. Only Jeffery would wear a scarf tucked into a smoking jacket to a barbeque down by the bayou.

  Val chuckled. “You and Jeff will fit in just fine. Come on. They’re not so bad once you get to know them.” Val smiled at me and glanced down at Jeffery coiled in the backseat. “Come on, bro! You can hold your own. Besides, I’ll protect you. I give you my word.” Val reached his arm out to help Jeff climb out of the tight back seat. I think Jeffery liked Val’s assistance by the sparkle in his eyes. Then he had to complain. “I like tight situations, but that backseat ain’t one of ‘em. Uh-hmm, it sure ain’t!” Jeffery pursed his lips as he held on a moment too long to Val’s arm.

  Val and I couldn’t help laughing at that comment. Like I said, I love my Jeffery.

  Soon we heard shouts coming from the circle of men. One of the bikers bellowed at Val in an offbeat French. “Qu’est-ce que tu fou la?” (What the hell you doing here)

  Val yelled back. “Comme d’hab’!” (Same shit, different day.) I just stared at him in awe. I had no idea Val spoke French. Sometimes you think you know someone, and then you get a surprise slapped in the face. WTF?

  The tall biker stepped out from among the others and greeted Val with a hardy bro hug. You know, the hug where men grasp each other’s hand and lean in pounding each other’s back ‘till it stings like an old fashioned beating.

  The biker appeared easy on the eyes in a rough, down and dirty way. A good way, if you get my drift. His hair was coal black, a little long, and its curls laid nicely around his ears. His eyes gleamed of dark chocolate, matching his bronze tan. He had defined arms with a strange tattoo starting from his biceps up to his neck, resembling scrolls or a vine. It reminded me of ancient scrolls or symbols like runes. It was enthralling and intimidating at the same time. He was a big man, standing as tall and broad as Val. Starting with his boots to his sleeveless black tee and bandana, he fit the profile of a true biker, and that little shade across his chiseled chin made him appear quite tantalizing.

  Once I reached Val’s side, the biker’s deep-brown eyes hitched with mine, though when he spoke, it wasn’t directed at me. His odd behavior threw me off a bit. Looking straight at me, he spoke in a deep husky voice in partial French. He cursed. “Merde! (Oh, shit!) I see you finally caught a decent fille! Non one of those grosse puffiest? Oui?” (Skanky Sluts)

  “True. Watch this one. She’s a spitfire.” Val winked at me. Then Val’s friend gave me his undivided attention by taking my hand and kissing it gently. “Enchant`e!” A glint in his deep browns told me he was trouble. Quite a ladies’ man.

  I replied back, “Evening!” I half smiled.

  He didn’t’ reply back but with only a slight smirk in his expression. Then he turned his full attention on Val and skipped right over Jeffery. “Did you come to c’est la fete?” (Party)

  “Mon un copain,” (My buddy) “I sure did and brought friends too! This is my copine, (girlfriend) Stevie, and our good ami, (friend) Jeffery. Guys! Meet Nick Bourdain.” Val politely introduced us.

  “Bonjour, everyone! Welcome!” Then the friend leaned in to Val and whispered, “Tacopine est raiment bonne!” (Your girlfriend is hot!) The Cajun smiled as he elbowed Val in the ribs. My boyfriend just smiled, glancing over his shoulder at me. Little did they know I knew a little French myself?

  Val, with a glint in his eyes, said to his tall, dark, and handsome ami, “Watch out. She doesn’t play.”

  “What? Will elle m’a poignard`e dans le dos?” (Will she knife me in the back) The biker mocked Val’s warning.

  “Nope, mon ami. Copine will do it to your face. And she hits her target every time.” Val smiled, proudly.

  “Hmm, dat petite one?” Surprise seeped into the biker’s voice, but his eyes displayed an admiration. I played along, acting as if I hadn’t a clue to what they were discussing. When Francis was alive, he taught me quite a bit of Cajun French—curse words and all. I caught on pretty fast too. I smiled inwardly. This should be interesting.

  “Come, let’s all have a good time! Yes? C’est `a boire qu’il nous faut!” (Something to drink is what we need!) “I have a head start. Un peu saoul!” (A bit drunk!)

  “Guess I better catch up, eh?” Val patted his friend on the back as we approached the small cluster of people.

  Everyone stood around the warm fire as the introductions circled around with broken French and English. Jeffery started to relax after everyone welcomed him with open arms. That’s what I loved about this strange place. With all its diversity and weirdness, folks here seemed to be open to everyone, no stiff shirts around the working class. Despite the bayou’s constant threat, I found myself loving this extraordinary state. It felt like home.

  After a while, everyone kicked back and enjoyed in the light-hearted natter. I settled down, leaning against one of the old trucks that was mostly rust and flat tires. It had to have been as old as the house. Circling the line of the vehicle, weeds had grown past the thread bared tires, and vines had taken home, creeping over the cab and bed.

  Val disappeared to the bathroom, called the backwater, and I was left alone. Jeffery was handing out his expensive caviar and crackers. I never cared for the nasty stuff, myself. I hardly liked chicken eggs. Yuck!

  When I looked up, the Cajun was strutting his way to me. Although the biker seemed sober by his steady feet, he must’ve chugged down a couple of cases of beer tonight. I watched him down one whole bottle in one gulp, and without hesitation, he opened another. Apparently, he was accustomed to drinking. There was something about a man who could hold his liquor. I watched as he approached.

  “Finally, she is alone.” His French accent appeared deeper than earlier. I suspect it might’ve had something to do with the alcohol.

  “Yeah, these days that’s a rarity.” I tossed a slight tug of a smile at the biker.

  “You are too beautiful to hang with such trash. You should get with me. I could teach you a thing or two. No?” The Cajun leaned against the truck, close in my personal space, breathing his beer breath on me. “If you like, I could, chéri take th
e crème de at frambroise?” (Cream off your raspberry?) “Or maybe je peux t’embrasser?” (I kiss you?)

  It didn’t take me speaking French to understand that this dude was coming on to me while his friend had his back turned.

  “You’re a pig!” I hissed.

  The Cajun arched his eyebrow. “Oui, a pig you might enjoy!” He flashed a pearly smile.

  “Throw in another log. I think we’re not through barbequing,” I replied in short.

  The Cajun paused, searching deeply into my eyes. “Je suis raiment de`sole`!” (I’m truly sorry.) He flashed his dazzling teeth. “I was only having some fun with you. Nick likes to tease. Yes?”

  “I see that, and Nick likes referring to himself in third person as well.” I snorted.

  “So are you some kind of good girl saving yourself?” His grin felt naughty.

  “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

  “Bebè, you are wound up too tight.”

  “And you are an expert?” I smirked.

  “I can tell. It’s deep in your âme” (Soul).

  I laughed. “I have no soul.” My face reflected coldness.

  His eyes searched deep into mine. “Qu‘est-ce que tu foul`a?” (What the hell you doing here?)

  I kept a straight face. “My mother moved me here.” Why was he asking me all these questions?

  “Smart woman, your mom. She come to the right place. Yes?”

  “No,” I said, irritated.

  “No? Why?” His brows knitted.

  “She died.”

  “Oh, I’m terribly sorry. You are so young to lose your mother.”

  “Thank you.” I didn’t want to share my problems with this guy. I looked away, spotting Jeffery chatting with one of the biker girls. I changed the subject quickly. “Are any of these ladies your date?”

  “Maybe? The night is still young.” A little arrogance flashed in his eyes.

  “So what? You say ‘Woman, come hither!’” I mimicked his accent, lowering my voice.

  His eyes glittered. “Oui, something like that.”

  “You see a girl you want, you just take her even if she has a man?”

  “Oui! Old Nick has his way with the ladies.” He brazenly teased.

  “Well, saint Nick, not this lady.” I flashed a smug grin. I’d had it with his unconcealed arrogance. I pushed off from the truck and started to pass him, then he grabbed my arm, and through his throaty voice, he whispered, “If you were mine, I’d never let you out of my sight.”

  “So says the Cajun womanizer. You are so full of shit!” I called him out on his absurdity. When I looked into his eyes, there was laughter and something else. A challenge? Just what I needed, another man in my life. I jerked my arm free, snarled at the Cajun and without another word, I walked away.

  Moments later when Val returned to my side from the call of nature, I nearly bit his head off as I lit into him, “Your friend is a horny bastard!”

  Val burst into guffaws, and everyone else followed. Obviously, Nick’s reputation served him well. As I stood there gawking at Val, I mumbled, “Te de vier!” (Dickhead) What else could I’ve said after he laughed in my face? I wasn’t sure I liked Val around these friends. He was different.

  ***

  Later after we’d eaten smoked pig, (no not the Cajun) with side dishes of roasted potatoes and corn on the cob, we all gathered around the fire. Some sat in lawn chairs, others sat on the ground. Val made a spot for himself beside Jeffery on a large tree stump. I joined them by crawling into Val’s lap. There was a slight chill in the air, blowing off the river. Snuggling up to Val, embraced in his arms and sitting close to the fire, soothed my chill. I laid my head against his shoulder, resting my eyes. The day had been a tough one, and the effects of the day was starting to wear on me.

  It seemed the food and drink were taking its toll as quiet began to settle over the circle of friends. Everyone seemed to drift off into their private thoughts.

  When I opened my eyes, I spotted Nick eye-balling me. It took me by surprise and made me very uncomfortable. Earlier I thought his flirting was annoying but harmless. Now I was beginning to wonder if his interest was teetering on weird? I glimpsed at Val, and as we shared a familiar glance, I leaned over and kissed him for what seemed like forever. Then I heard his friend bellow out! “I didn’t think ange kiss?” (angels’ kiss) He taunted.

  “There’s lots of things a Zop can do, which I won’t say in mix company.” Val threw back at his friend.

  “Such a gentleman. A real woman wants hot passion. Throw her down and make love to her as though it’s the last. Passion, my friend, passion!”

  “Don’t worry, Saint Nick. I have this handled,” Val called back.

  “Frere! (Brother) What do you know? Il `ecoute pas personne parce qu’il est!” (He doesn’t listen to anyone because he’s in love)

  The gang began laughing. I rolled my eyes. I glanced at Jeffery, and he had his basket of goodies clung to his chest, hugging it tightly. Maybe we should leave.

  “Val, let’s go!”

  “Are you sure?” He looked surprised.

  “Yeah. I’m feeling a bit uneasy.”

  “Okay.” Val dragged in a deep sigh.

  I slipped off him and realized, I needed to use the bathroom first. That trip back down this long bumpy road would be torture if I didn’t go. “Hey, is there a bathroom I could use? And please don’t you dare point to that damn swamp.” I warned.

  I could see the humor in Val’s glint. “Yeah, go around to the back part of the house. Just go in. No one’s in there.”

  “Okay, I’ll be back.” I turned to Jeff. Come with me, please.”

  “I’m already with you, honey. I think I need to tinkle too! And I ain’t taking no risk going out by the bayou where some big alligator might think I’m dangling my thang as bait. Oh no, he can’t get this!” Jeffery was up and on his way to the back of the house nearly five paces ahead of me. I think it was fair to say Jeffery hated gators worse than me. Even still, I couldn’t help laughing. And at the same time, I was grossed out by the picture painted in my brain.

  When we reached the back porch, the backlight was shining brightly and only the screen door closed. We stepped up to the wooden porch, our footfall thumped against the planks. I noted a couple of rocking chairs in the corner and a couple of pot plants of bright-red geranium sitting on the other side of the chairs.

  Wasting no time, Jeffery made a nose dive straight for the bathroom, first. I suppose with his wiggling and holding his knees together like a five year old, he couldn’t wait another minute. I stepped into the kitchen, the screen squeaking in my ear, and stood just inside, waiting. I figured by the age of the house, there was only one bathroom.

  While I was picking on my nails with growing impatience for Jeffery to finish, out of nowhere, I heard a woman’s voice from the back, calling, “I’m come-n! Just hold on to your knickers!” she called out in a heavy French pitch. I stiffened. I could’ve sworn Val said no one was here.

  In my next breath, an elderly lady, small frame, limped into the kitchen. “What you need, child?” her voice was choppy like most aging.

  I began to stammer. “I’m—I’m so—so sorry. We were told the house was empty. My friend and I need to borrow your bathroom, if you would be so kind, ma’am.”

  “Why didn’t you say so? Come in!” She spread her lips into a toothless grin. I smiled back.

  “The elderly lady went to the stove where a kettle was steaming. I spotted two white cups in saucers laid out on the counter. I sensed she was expecting me for tea. The lady turned the burner off and started to pour herself a hot cup of tea. She glimpsed up at me, “Would you care for some tea?” I noticed she had stunning blue eyes. They were such an odd color. I first thought she might be blind, they were so pale, but she seemed to know her way around too well to be sightless.

  “Sure, thank you.” I didn’t know why I said yes. I wasn’t in the mood for conversation. Yet I was drawn to
her.

  “Here, come have a seat. Your friend will be in there for a while. He’s not use to spicy foods.” She set a white cup and saucer full of piping tea on the table and waved for me to sit. “By the way, I’m Mable.” She took her seat at the table.

  “Hello, Mable. I’m Stevie.” I smiled, thinking how much I dreaded using the bathroom after Jeffery. I eased out an oh-well sigh and seated myself next to the lady of the house.

  For a minute I sat silent, sipping tea. The taste was a little bitter but familiar. “What kind of tea is this?” I asked, curious.

  “Oolong.”

  “It’s nice.” I held my cup up, the corners of my mouth slightly tugged.

  “Thank you.” She placed her tea down into its saucer and cleared her throat. “The man you come with tonight, is he your boyfriend?” She inquired.

  “Sorta.” I tipped my shoulder upward. “We haven’t made it official.”

  “Do you know why?” Her eyes became sober.

  “Uh...we’re taking it slow.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  I smiled, feeling awkward, sipping my tea.

  “He is immonde?” (not of this world)

  I damn near spewed my drink, choking. “Excuse me?” I coughed.

  “I see him from time to time.” She took a short breath as though she was a little winded, “His feet may touch dirt, but he is far from earthly. He belongs to another realm, as you are amarrer to another.” (Tied) She lifted her cup to her lips and slurped the golden liquid.

  “I’m sorry?” play dumb, deny, deny, I coaxed myself.

  “You are locked into a bond that is unbreakable, are you not?” The elderly woman’s mouth knitted tightly.

  Chills began to creep down my spine. “I’m bound to many.” I didn’t mean to sound snide, but she caught me off guard.

  Then our conversation really got weird. “The company you keep are without âme.” (soul) Her eyes were too piercing. “Se prennent pour le centre da min de (Think they’re the center of the universe). Those bankers,” the odd lady whispered, leaning in, “maybe they are.”