“Enrique Arrays was at his house. They’re talking nonsense about an army…creating an army.”
Angela looked at James and Niall.
Claude continued. “They said my followers would look at me like a god. I asked what would happen if I refused to help. Enrique did this,” He pointed to his face and winced with the movement. “To make sure I understood that there would be no refusal.” He looked at Angela with watery eyes. “I think I have a cracked rib too.” He sighed miserably. “I called my wife. I’m sending her to her sister’s in Alabama until this is over.”
Angela yelled down the spiral staircase. “Amener la trousse de premiers soins rapidement!” She returned to Claude and crouched beside him.
“What do they want an army for?”
“To take over New Orleans!” He said incredulously, his good eye opened wide. “They want to make this the epicenter for some kind of strange supernatural takeover!”
“For what? I don’t understand.” Sinclair asked.
“For anything they want! They would control it all!”
“This isn’t a territorial thing then.” Angela said, taking a basket of medical supplies from a dark skinned woman at the top of the stairs.
“No. It’s about drugs, guns, skin, and territory.”
Angela began cleaning his broken skin. “What are they planning for right now? Right this minute?”
“I’m supposed to gather my people together. They want to have a gathering tomorrow night. Joseph thinks he can use the stone on his own.” He looked at her strangely. “Without the benefit of a witch to help him.”
Angela’s hands stilled. “Then I guess we better be there too.”
Sinclair slid a hand over her clenching stomach.
Niall patted the edge of the bed, his eyes large in the semi darkness. Sinclair had been a tightly wound spring since the return visit to Angela’s. When Niall told her she was to stay put at the hotel with Gabriel when they went to the ‘gathering’, she had flown into a rage.
“Try to understand, Sinclair.”
She stopped her pacing, ignoring his invitation to sit beside him. His defined chest begged for her fingertips to run over the taut muscle, but she ignored that too, clenching her hands into two fists.
“After being part of all of this, how can you ask me to stay behind now?”
Niall reached for her. “Because I don’t want you to be in danger.” His dark eyes were soft and had an air of innocence. Sinclair could see that he actually believed that they were going to get through it and be just fine.
She came to the bed and sat beside him. She took his outstretched hand in hers and interlaced their fingers. A weariness was settling into her that ran through her bones like water. She couldn’t stay mad at him. It took too much of the energy she so desperately needed.
“What happens if Enrique gets what he wants here and won’t clear my name?”
“It won’t happen.”
“Which part?”
“He won’t get what he wants here.”
Sinclair chewed on her bottom lip. “I hope not.”
Niall pulled her to his chest. “Try not to worry. We’ll take care of this. Angela is probably massing an army of her own right now.”
James followed Angela deep into the decrepit foyer, scratching his nose against the smell of death and rot.
“Marcus is wealthier than Midas yet he lives in this?”
“This is glamour. He’s married to a Fae.” She stared up at the bowed ceiling. It looked real. “Some witches can do it too.”
“Fae.” James said bluntly. “Great.”
“Welcome.” A voice soft as silk spoke to them from the shadows. “Thank you for leaving your ghouls at home, Angela.”
“You’re welcome.” Angela strained against the shadows, but even with her heightened senses, she still couldn’t place where Marcus was hidden. James stiffened beside her, nose pointed upward, drawing in air through his nose and mouth. He too struggled.
“Your abilities are of no use here, freak.”
James growled low in his throat, but stopped as Angela gently touched his back.
“Tell me why I should involve myself in this?”
“If you don’t, Joseph Overman and Enrique Arrays will raise an army of undead that are like nothing you have ever seen. James is the closest thing to it if you want an example to give you an idea.”
A dark corner shifted and seemed to bend in on itself. Angela and James blinked simultaneously as a medium sized man stepped into the light. His dark hair was brushed straight back from his forehead, and he smiled at them with hawk like features. He didn’t look any older than eighteen. Angela hadn’t seen Marcus in many years, and was once again taken aback that a man of his size and apparent age could be so powerful. She reminded herself silently of his true age.
“Joseph Overman is a man with a reputation for sure, but I hardly think he’s capable of this. Enrique Arrays certainly isn’t either.”
“They have…”
He held up a hand to stop her. “They have the legendary witch’s stone. Yes, I know.” He shook his head and brushed at the lapel of his jacket. “You made a mistake by not destroying that thing years ago, Angela.”
Angela’s back stiffened. “I have my reasons for not. If given the opportunity, I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
“Of course.” He regarded them coolly for a moment before beckoning them forward. “Please, come see my real home, and meet Clarissa.”
“This is a mistake.” James breathed.
“It will only be a mistake if you do something stupid.” Marcus said ahead of them.
Angela gave James a warning look.
Marcus opened two French doors and stood, waiting for them to enter. James wasn’t sure how much glamour was needed, but he assumed a lot. The real foyer beyond was brightly lit and looked like something from a movie set. A wide staircase was slightly to the right and curved above their heads. The bottom half of the house was completely open. The walls were a cream wallpaper with a faint diamond pattern, and the wainscoting and wall beneath were white. Gold and glass accents were everywhere. Light colored stone was beneath their feet, but cream carpet blanketed the staircase.
Angela swept her eyes quickly, taking in as much detail as she could. To the left of the staircase was another room with double doors open wide. She could see couches and a fireplace. Marcus took them past the staircase and the open room. Beyond the staircase the room completely opened up, revealing a kitchen separated only by a large island. A breakfast nook was to the left of the kitchen, but it could seat at least six people. The right side of the cavernous space had another fireplace, sectional couch, and a piano and pool table. Angela noted a large flat screen television mounted above the fireplace. A slender woman rose from the sectional. Her blonde hair hung straight to her shoulders and her pale skin seemed to glow.
“Clarissa, our guests have arrived. Please come and meet Angela and James.”
She moved gracefully, but Angela could see a stiffness; a calculated series of movements that were practiced. It reminded her of the Stepford Wives movie.
“Pleased to meet you.” She said, barely touching them as she shook their hands. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Angela. I’m sorry it has taken so long for us to meet.”
Angela nodded, forcing her business face in place. “Yes, it’s a pleasure. Your home is lovely.”
“Thank you.” She tilted her head downward in a gesture of humility. “I’m sure you all have much to talk about. I’ll just leave you to it.” She moved to Marcus and bent slightly to kiss his offered cheek. She was at least two inches taller than him. Marcus watched her leave before turning his attention back to his guests.
“How’d you catch her?” James asked with a laugh.
“I didn’t catch her. She came to me.”
Angela’s eyes pinched at the corners. She took a seat beside James. “Did you drug her then as you are now?”
Marcus hesitat
ed a fraction of a second before taking a seat across from them. He forced his posture straight in the wing backed chair. Angela supposed it made him feel bigger.
“We all know what I am. She knows it too, but…” He shrugged casually. “Sometimes, it’s a little hard for her.”
“So you keep her drugged.”
“We aren’t here to discuss your wife.” James broke in. “We need help with this problem. In reality it’s a really big shit hole full of problems.”
Marcus shook his head slightly. “This city doesn’t need another war.”
“You’re going to have another war, on a far larger scale, if you don’t help us.”
Marcus turned his attention to Angela. “You surprise me, Angela.”
“Why’s that?” She had never liked Marcus. She was just beginning to understand why.
“You run your life like a charade. Did you know that most think you’re the reincarnated Marie Laveau?”
Angela laughed dismissively. “Yes, I’ve heard the rumor. It’s nonsense.”
“Yes, but you have power that far exceeds simple Voodoo.”
“I run a business. Several actually. I allow people to think what they wish.”
“But, it’s a charade.”
“You have glamour on the front of your house. That’s a charade too. What’s your point?”
Marcus ran his hands over the arms of the chair. “I just thought you would have taken the city by now. You didn’t lift a finger to help either side in the last war.” His dark eyes lifted. “Now did you?”
“Is that what this is about?” She could feel heat rising up her face. She prided herself on constant composure and control. Since getting involved with Niall and Sinclair, she felt like she was losing some of it. James sitting so near to her with his arm draped over the back of the sectional was another reminder that her composure was waning. She wasn’t sure the James part was an entirely bad thing.
Angela shook her head. “You’re miffed I didn’t side with the Vampires? How could I chose a side and still maintain what I have here?”
“I’m simply making an observation. You felt that you couldn’t preserve your own rear end, yet you want me to choose a side now.”
“This isn’t about just vampires and werewolves hating each other, Marcus. This is about a greedy human and a greedy shifter coming together within the Voodoo human population to unleash hell on this city!” Her eyes narrowed. “It’s about absolute control of everything here. The drug trade. The skin trade. The…”
Marcus held up a hand. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t help. I just want a better understanding as to why I should.”
James laughed. It was a booming sound and Angela was beginning to like the way he threw his head back when something truly amused him. His gray eyes glittered with amusement.
“You’re such a hypocrite!”
Marcus’s face became hooded and still. Angela hoped James didn’t go too far.
“I didn’t know you were married until Angela told me, because every time I glimpsed you, you had your arm draped over some call girls shoulders.” He leaned forward. “Sometimes it was a call boy. Don’t think I don’t know about that business! Plus you have your hands in every illegal thing imaginable, including the sale of black market babies!”
Marcus turned his head and lifted his eyes to the staircase, his jaw tense.
“Guess what? Enrique Arrays is into all of that shit too! Do you really want him here with an army of unholy undead meddling in your business?”
Marcus ground his teeth and bared his fangs. “My wife knows nothing of that.”
“She will if you don’t help.”
“Leave blackmail to the professionals, freak.”
James boomed more laughter. “You’re a real piece of work. You’re the oldest vampire in the city, yet you’re biggest aspiration is to behave like a common human criminal.”
“We all have to make a living.”
Angela raised her hands, weary of their bantering. “Will you help or not?”
“Where is this little gathering taking place?” He responded tightly.
“The swamp area of Bayou Bouef tomorrow night. We have a contact that will put us in the exact spot.”
Marcus stood and walked to the fireplace. He stared down at the blackened cold logs for several long minutes. Angela exchanged a look with James, both holding troubled eyes.
“Fine. I’ll assist. I’m not risking many of my own, however.” He turned to face them. “I’ll bring ten, including myself, but that’s all.”
Angela took a deep breath and stood. “It’s better than what we have right now. Thank you.”
Marcus bowed deeply. “Of course. Call me before sunrise so I will know what the details are.”
Angela hurried James to the door. She didn’t want to give Marcus time to change his mind.
James drove Angela back to her store on Dauphine Street. He parked on the curb and shut the car off.
“Don’t you ever get tired of seeing the same building?”
“What do you mean?”
“You work here and live here. Don’t you want to see another…I don’t know…home maybe?”
Angela watched her brothers appear through the closed doorway of her business. Their smoke bodies curled and writhed. They weren’t pleased. She wished for one day she could be a normal mortal woman. A woman who wept, sang, baked cookies, anything. A woman who knew what it was like to fall in love.
“Are you inviting me to your home?”
“Yes. Mam, I am.”
“Hold on.” She opened the car door and walked to her brothers.
James watched uneasily as Angela conversed with the smoke men. He had no idea what she was saying, but he could tell they didn’t like it. They moved about her in swirling angry movements. Most of the time they were just wisps of black smoke, but occasionally he glimpsed a flash of dark face. One broke free and breezed through the windshield, stopping an inch from James’s face. The ghost grimaced but returned to Angela before he and his brother disappeared into the store again.
Angela slid back into the passenger seat, slamming the door. “Alright. Let’s go see your home.”
James started the car. “I guess they’re pissed?”
“They are.” She shook her head. “They’re protective. I should have freed them years ago.”
“So, why are you coming with me? I know how you feel about my kind.”
“I have learned that your kind isn’t as bad as I once thought. I think the bigger part of it was jealousy. I have a portion of what you have, yet I can’t shift.” She laughed lightly. “I called Niall a devil when he first arrived here.”
James laughed. “I bet he loved that.” He looked at her from the corner of his eye. “So, really, why are you coming with me?”
“For one night I want to feel like a real woman.”
“I guess I can understand that.”
“You want to feel like a real woman too?” She asked playfully.
“Hell no! But I do want to feel like a real man. I wish I knew where I fit in.”
Angela sighed and watched the city roll past. “I guess we both have that same problem. I don’t really fit in anywhere either.”
“You’re powerful, rich, and respected. You don’t need to fit in.”
“Oh but I do. We all do.” She spoke the words quietly, weighting them in cadence to emphasize their importance. Angela looked at James’s profile, as he reached over and took her hand. He wasn’t a particularly handsome man, but he had an undeniable presence that she liked. He made her smile, real smiles that had only to do with her, not Angela the business woman, not Angela the witch, not Angela the freak who could read minds and raise the dead all while seeing in the dark. No, it had to do with Angela the woman, and she hadn’t stopped thinking about the way his fingertips had felt on her skin when he had zipped up her dress. It had been a long time since she had even attempted to have a man touch her. The spontaneous way he had done it had shoc
ked her in a pleasant way.
“I don’t expect anything of you tonight, Angela.”
“What if I expect something of you?”
“Well, we only have a few hours before dawn, and we have to talk to Claude and Marcus again. But…” He looked at her slyly. “I haven’t had a woman in over a year, so it might not take long.”
“How old are you?”
“Does it matter?”
“No. I’m only curious.”
“I was thirty when the undead bit me. That was three years ago.”
“Ah…still a baby.”
“I’m living every woman’s dream. I’ll be thirty forever.” He drove down a long driveway and shut the car off. “How is it that you had the stone touched to you as a teenager, yet you look like a grown woman? Wouldn’t the vampire blood alone have frozen you in time?”
“It did in a way, but remember that stone has more than just vampire blood in it. I age, but it takes a very long time. I looked like a teenager for over fifty years. I’ve looked like this ever since.”
“You’re living the dream too. I wouldn’t put you past thirty or thirty five.”
“Let’s hope it holds then.” She looked through the windshield at a large rundown plantation house.
“This is your home?”
“Yeah. It’s a work in progress, so don’t judge.”
“How long have you had it?” She stepped from the car and listened to the breeze blowing through the oak and Spanish moss. The house had a desolate feel, yet at the same time she had the distinct feeling that she had come home.
“I got it about a year ago. I bought it in a tax auction thing.”
“Impressive.” She said, and moved towards a stone bench. “You’re renovating?”
“I am.” He gazed at the house with the type of affection a parent would show a child.
“You know about restoration then?” She sat gracefully on the bench, crossing her legs at the ankle. “Maybe you can work on some furniture for me.”
James joined her. “I was a carpenter before the war happened. I worked for a company owned by my kind. It was a small thing really, but we did alright. I was the alpha of my pack, most of us worked there.”
BAD BOY ROMANCE: DIESEL: Contemporary Bad Boy Biker MC Romance (Box Set) (New Adult Sports Romance Short Stories Boxset) Page 33