Niall stood in the center of the living room part of the suite and lifted his chin. He brought air in slow over his tongue and closed his eyes. The imprint was still there.
“What in the hell are you doing?”
Niall opened one eye and saw Sinclair staring at him wide eyed.
“Someone’s been here.”
Sinclair’s head moved backward from her shoulders, and she licked her lips. “Probably housekeeping. You probably smell perfume or something.”
“No.”
Niall began a slow circuit of the room. Sinclair followed him with her eyes. Her throat had gone dry. He’s lost his mind. We’re knee deep in weirdness and my guide through it has cracked.
“Niall! What are you doing?”
Niall froze and glanced at her. This wasn’t the right time. Never might be the right time for her to know what he really was, and what he was capable of. He would not be able to explain, at least not right now, that he could smell an imprint of someone long after they had left a room. He could sense what they were from it. It worked better for other shifters or paranormals rather than humans. He could usually tell if it was a male or female human but that was about it; but for his kind he could tell what kind of shifter from the lingering smell. He could also detect Vampires based on their dead slightly musty scent. Sinclair didn’t need to know any of this right now.
“Nothing. Just thinking.”
“Thinking. Right.” She lifted her eyebrows and let them drop back in place. “Look, we need to figure out where he is as soon as possible. We shouldn’t get tangled up in this…whatever it is, any more than we have to.”
“You think I don’t already know that?” Niall jerked his cell phone from his pocket and scrolled his contacts until he came to Enrique Array’s name. He inwardly growled.
Stupid wolf! Why didn’t he just come clean about this stuff?
“Array’s residence.”
“May I speak to Enrique?”
“Who’s calling?” The man’s voice had an edge.
“Niall Amrit.”
Niall only heard silence and was about to give up when Enrique came on the line.
“What can I do for you Niall? Have you had any luck?”
“No. Look, I need to know about the stone Joseph Overman stole from you. I also need to know if he had or wanted a different job other than grounds keeper.” There was silence on the other end. Niall rolled his eyes. “Enrique?”
“What do you want to know about the stone?”
“I want to know what it is and what it’s capable of.”
“Have you found it?” The hint of excitement was unmistakable.
“No.” Niall followed Sinclair with his eyes as she paced the room, her arms wrapped around her waist. “But we know he still has it.” Niall looked at the ceiling. “We think he marked his own son some kind of way with the stone.”
Again the silence. “Look, you have a job to do, so just do it.”
Niall ground his teeth. “I need to know what I’m dealing with.”
Niall could hear a soft exhalation of air. “It belonged to a witch.”
“A…” Niall watched Sinclair stop, her green eyes expectant, as if she knew something was about to happen. Maybe it was.
“Why did you have it?”
Niall could almost see Enrique’s casual arrogant shrug.
“I collect rare things.”
“Bullshit.”
“I won’t tolerate any more of this. Like I said, you have a job to do.” The line went dead.
“Well?” Sinclair’s eyes were large, looking up at him, her eyebrows slightly raised.
“Nothing.” Niall ran a hand over his head and sighed shakily. “He said the stone belonged to a witch, and then told me to do my job.” He twisted his lips over the last word.
“A witch? Like a Wiccan witch? A Satanist witch? What?”
“I don’t know.”
Sinclair yanked her purse open and turned on her phone. Niall watched her silently before walking to the double doors of the balcony. Bourbon Street below them was busy with people casually strolling in and out of the various bars and businesses. Although at that time of night, the bars were the main source of foot traffic. The city held a subdued hum. The energy was present yet covered with a laid back atmosphere he knew was false. A street band could be heard nearby. The horns and snare drum grated on his already frayed nerves.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to look up things about Wiccans.”
He sat down heavily beside her and leaned his head back on the couch. “We don’t even know what kind of witch it belonged to.”
“We need to start somewhere.”
Niall looked at her from the corner of his eye. She had gumption. A kind of determined courage he admired. He was shocked that she hadn’t tried to bolt. He might have. Long minutes stretched by as Niall tried to wait patiently for her to read things on her phone.
“I don’t see anything that mentions a stone like that, but I’ll keep looking.”
“You won’t.”
“Why not?” She tore her eyes off of the screen and pinned him with surprised eyes.
“Some things aren’t accessible to the public.”
Sinclair blew air from her nose. “Everything’s accessible. You just need to know where to find the information.”
Niall’s face turned to stone. “No, not everything.”
Sinclair let it drop.
“I want to go back and talk to that woman Angela.”
Sinclair stuck her head out of the bathroom and frowned. Niall bit back a laugh as he looked at her. One half of her face was made up, and the other half wasn’t, except for a light covering of foundation. He wished she would opt for a more natural look.
“I don’t think she’ll want to see us back in her shop.”
She’ll be fine with you being there. “I’m going to let you use your persuasive abilities.”
Sinclair rolled her eyes and moved her head back into the bathroom.
Angela Bourdieu slightly raised her head to the sound of her door chimes. She dropped her pencil in the crease of her old fashioned ledger with a sigh. The ledger was a record of things sold in secret, untouched by the probing invisible eyes of the current digital age. Someday all of that would fail, and she couldn’t wait.
Angela rose gracefully, her deceptively youthful appearance could never belie her true age. Most wouldn’t believe her even if she revealed it. She came out of her office and froze at the sight of the big boned woman with her devil boyfriend. The woman was not a threat; she was actually cute with her pin up vampish good looks and bright green eyes. If only she chose better company.
“I told the two of you last time that I haven’t seen your friend.”
Niall regarded her coldly, ignoring the purposeful silky wave of her voice. The woman was a tightly wound spring, coiled and ready to strike, yet she stood with her hands clasped in front of her wispy baby blue skirt as if she didn’t have a care in the world. It was the eyes; the eyes never lied.
“Funny, we found our friend’s Grandmother and she told us he has in fact been here with a rather special stone.” Niall touched a lamp with an exorbitant price tag lightly with his fingertips.
Angela smirked at his attempt to make her nervous by touching the lamp. “It’s not a real Tiffany, you know.”
Sinclair stepped forward and gave the woman a wide smile. Her hair was pulled straight back into a pony tail, and it swished slightly as she moved.
“Look, we don’t want any trouble. We just need your help.”
“Then try telling me the truth.”
Sinclair and Niall exchanged a swift glance.
“Why do you think we aren’t?” Sinclair’s smile faltered.
“The stone is the thing you desire, Cherie. I knew that during your first visit.”
“Why did you lie to us then?”
She’s so innocent. Pity. “Come, allow me to show you both something.”
Angela turned on her heel and moved like a wraith leading them towards the back of the store. The feel of the place changed as they moved from the front. Angela took them past a kitchen and down a slim hallway. Two women preparing food looked up at them blankly as they passed, their hair caught up in cloth wraps, and their nearly identical deep brown faces showed absolutely no emotion. The hallway ended at a closed door, and when Angela opened it a dark staircase was revealed.
Sinclair froze, her tongue flicked over her lower lip. “I don’t want to go up there.”
Angela angled her head slightly. Interesting. She didn’t stop and continued up the staircase silently.
Niall took Sinclair’s hand and nodded. “It’s fine. I’m here.” He whispered. “I won’t allow anything to happen to you.”
Sinclair didn’t relax, but followed Niall anyway.
The staircase came to the second floor, but Angela continued on to the next staircase which wound its way to the attic. The wrought iron creaked and Sinclair felt a change in the air. It wasn’t just a change in temperature, it was a change in pressure. Sinclair felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up as they stepped into the A frame structure of the attic. A long counter was along the left side, and a woman regarded them with the same blank expression as the two women downstairs, her coal eyes were like someone dead.
Angela spoke curtly to her in French, and the woman moved from behind the counter and began descending the stairs. She looked up at Sinclair as she made the first curve, and Sinclair was sure a smile ghosted her lips.
“What is this place?” Niall asked, his eyes scanning the room. It was murky and dust motes floated lazily in the air. A single round window was at the top center where the eaves met at a point. Glass jars of every size were along the counter, or behind glass beneath it. Various things hung in bunches on nails on the wall behind. The place smelled earthy and old. Very old. The other side of the room held small tables with books, little boxes of cards, and odd looking Knick knacks. Vials and jars were everywhere.
“This is the other part of my business.”
The words of their waitress rang a delayed warning through Niall’s head. The girl had said this part was in the back, so she obviously spoke on rumor since it was actually in the attic.
Angela resumed the stance she had taken on the ground floor; straight back with hands clasped in front of her.
“It’s actually the larger part of my business.”
“Which is what?” Sinclair bent at the waist to look at an object in a large jar. Pale green liquid encased what looked like a monkey skull.
“These items are used in Voodoo.” Angela motioned towards the long counter with a wave of her hand. With the other hand she gestured towards the rest of the room. Everything else is used for…other practices.”
“Witchcraft?” Sinclair’s eyes caught some of the pale light. Angela stepped forward to get a better look at her. Her odd green eyes had escaped her attention during their first visit, and even just moments before when they first arrived. Angela was disappointed in herself. Things of this nature rarely escaped her. The young woman had potential. It was a spark, albeit tiny, but a spark nonetheless. It flickered for a moment, a promise of something great.
“Yes, of various forms.”
Sinclair nodded slowly. “So, why did you refuse to take the stone Joseph had? A witch owned it.”
Niall bit the inside of his cheek. He hadn’t wanted her to play that card just yet.
Angela sighed. “Yes, and it’s a beautiful piece, but I’m not interested.”
“Why?” Sinclair was like a child trying to find out why her parent had told her no.
“Because it’s more dangerous than anything else in this room.”
Niall snorted and opened his arms wide. “More dangerous than all of this? You’re dabbling in everything here except the resurrection of Jesus Christ!”
Angela smirked and pointed to the back of the attic. “I have a King James version of the Bible back there if you’re interested.”
“Look,” Sinclair interjected. “We need to find Joseph and this stone. A powerful man in Florida is hunting for both, and my future depends on us finding them.”
“And finally the truth is here to set you free.” Angela stepped towards Sinclair again and touched her on each side of her temples. Her pale blue eyes bore into Sinclair’s green ones. “Tell me, do you have a witch in your family?”
Niall stepped forward, stopping in mid stride as an invisible force stopped him.
“We have…we have a few bitches…but I don’t think they’re witches.”
Angela laughed softly and withdrew her hands. She walked to the counter, her high heels clicking on the old wood, and pulled a card from a stack at the end of the counter. She handed it to Sinclair.
Sinclair scanned the card, solid black with raised tan lettering, script like what was over her door. It was the name of her business compete with address and phone number. There was no other information, not even a hint of what type of business it was.
“There may come a time when you will need to seek someone out...like me.”
Sinclair reluctantly took the card and slipped it into her purse. She didn’t know what to say. “Thank you”.
“Of course.” Angela’s eyes shifted to Niall. She tilted her head to the side and Niall felt his mind explode with words.
Mon Dieu, but you are beautiful, devil. Pity. Stay your distance and I may help your girlfriend.
Niall felt the unseen presence release him. He immediately moved to Sinclair and guided her by the elbow to the stairs.
“Leave your number. Perhaps I will see the man with the stone again.”
Sinclair hastily wrote her number on the back of an old receipt from her purse and handed it to Angela. Niall wasted no more time getting her down the stairs afterwards. His eyes locked with Angela’s as he began the descent.
The dark corners of the attic shifted as two tall, impossibly dark and devastatingly handsome men drifted to stand beside her.
“Well?” One spoke, his eyes rolling until the whites showed.
“Stop that.” Angela spat. “There will be time soon enough. You will assist in this, but only because I desire that young woman.”
The wraiths looked at her simultaneously.
Angela held up a hand absently. “Not in the way you’re dirty little minds think. I need a protégée.” She grinned coldly. “And she’s perfect.”
“That was beyond weird, Niall.” Sinclair clicked the seatbelt and stared straight ahead. How could she explain what she had felt when the woman had touched her face? Would Niall understand that it was like looking backwards through time as their eyes met? She had felt secrets unraveling at the edges of her mind.
“Dangerous is a better word.”
“I don’t think dangerous. I think weird.”
Niall looked at her sidelong. Angela wasn’t what she appeared to be, but he wasn’t sure he had a word for what she was. Human, yes, and not a shifter of any kind, nor a vampire; but she was paranormal for sure. Her appearance alone was startling and made one question. She had long medium brown hair and pale blue eyes, but her skin was a light tan, and her features were large. Mulatto of some sort, he suspected.
“You should throw that card away.”
Sinclair touched her purse, her eyes drifting down to it. “No, I think I’ll hold on to it for a while.”
Niall opened his mouth then snapped it shut, opting instead to just drive away.
“Are you hungry?”
“I could eat.”
“Same place as yesterday, or something else?”
“I think we should just order room service.”
Niall shrugged, surprised she didn’t want to try and see more of the quarter, but said nothing.
Sinclair’s phone began playing some kind heavy metal song, and she smiled sheepishly at Niall as she pulled it from her bag.
“Hi, Tina.”
Niall tried to b
lock out the conversation happening beside him. The gist was that Tina hadn’t heard from her and was worried; and Sinclair’s mother had called twice, and why hadn’t she given her mother her cell phone number anyway?
Sinclair ended her call and blew a sharp exhalation of air between her teeth.
“I guess your Mom is worried?”
“Yeah.”
“Why doesn’t she have your cell number?”
“I gave it to her, but I guess she forgot. I don’t know.”
Niall left it alone. It wasn’t his business anyway.
The room service was cheaper than he expected and was surprisingly good food. A member of the kitchen staff wheeled in a cart with fresh fruit and chicken salad sandwiches and freshly made potato chips.
“Wow, I’ve never had fresh chips before.” Sinclair mused as she popped another into her mouth.
“I want you to take a nap.”
“Why?”
“Because tonight we are going on a crawl of the Quarter. We are going to see if we can spot Joseph, or at least get a lead as to his where about.” Niall began stacking their dishes and rolled the cart into the hallway. As he turned back to the room, Sinclair was stretching lazily on the couch, her t shirt clinging closely to her breasts. Niall closed the door quietly, keeping his eyes on her, unwilling to miss any other movement. She was so beautiful, and his attraction was becoming a problem.
“So, what kinds of places would he most likely go?”
Sinclair curled her legs under her and shook her head. “Hard to say. I mean it has become painfully obvious that I didn’t know him at all.” She plucked at her shirt and lifted one shoulder. “Before all of this I would have said he would choose the seedier places, places that had loud music and cheap beer, but now for all I know, he might show up at a five star restaurant and order champagne.”
Niall hated how her mouth puckered and her cheeks grew pink. She didn’t actually understand what had happened to her. He sat down beside her and lifted her chin with a finger.
“Sinclair, you were a victim in Joseph’s world. None of this was your fault.”
BAD BOY ROMANCE: DIESEL: Contemporary Bad Boy Biker MC Romance (Box Set) (New Adult Sports Romance Short Stories Boxset) Page 23