BAD BOY ROMANCE: DIESEL: Contemporary Bad Boy Biker MC Romance (Box Set) (New Adult Sports Romance Short Stories Boxset)

by Parker, Kylee

  “Angela has talked to me about it, but I haven’t had time to work with her to see if it’s true.”

  He nodded. “Yes, you have been busy.” He crossed a leg and ran his free hand down to the knee. “You may not need a lot of tutoring. It seems you do have innate natural ability based on heredity.”

  Sinclair felt the air trying to escape her lungs. “I…my mother said there weren’t witches in our family. I asked her.”

  He nodded again. A patient movement as if she were a child trying to grasp a foreign adult concept.

  “Yes, she told me she had just spoken to you. She told me she said that. She’s a delightful woman, really.” His face became sympathetic as he tilted his head. “She lied to you I’m afraid.” He whispered.

  “There was a witch?” Sinclair asked weakly.

  “A warlock. Your father is a warlock. That’s why he’s no longer with your mother.”

  Sinclair’s head spun. Latasha swam into view, her frown deep. She placed a glass of iced tea in Sinclair’s shaking hands. She sipped it and handed it back. She looked back at Enrique, her eyes pricked with tears.

  “How much did you pay her for that information? She didn’t give it to her own daughter for free, so it must have been substantial.”

  “Now that’s a rude question.” He laughed. “Don’t be angry with her, Sinclair. She only wanted to protect you.”

  “How much?” She whispered.

  Enrique rolled his eyes. “If you must know, I transferred a healthy hundred thousand into her account.”

  “A hundred thousand.” Sinclair wiped at the one tear that had fallen. “It’s nice to know what I’m worth to my mother.”

  “Don’t feel that way. Apparently your father is rather powerful. That should give you great hope for your own abilities.”

  “Yay.” Sinclair said dryly.

  “So, your presence tonight is important. You could be something that exceeds what Angela is. She’s just a witch after all. You could be far more.”

  Just a witch? Angela looked at Enrique, then at Joseph blandly. They don’t know she was touched by the stone. I hope she gives them a great show tonight! Bastards.

  “Maybe I just want to go back to Palm Beach and put all of this behind me. Maybe I don’t want what you’re talking about.”

  Enrique leaned into her, forcing her instinctively backwards into the couch.

  “You have no choice in the matter.”

  Angela spoke quietly into her cell phone, James and Niall completing a tight circle around her.

  “Alright, Claude. Be careful. Remember, if Sinclair is already with them, act surprised. Don’t put yourself in any extra danger.”

  She slid her finger across the screen of her phone. “Claude is on his way to meet with Joseph and Enrique. Now we just have to wait for Marcus to get here.”

  Niall turned away and watched the pink and purple sky finish its crawl to the horizon. This was it. Soon the nightmare would be over. The stone would be destroyed and he hoped that meant Enrique Arrays and Joseph Overman would be as well. Most importantly, Sinclair would be back in his arms. He pictured her many faces in a succession of images like snapshots. He saw her frowning with puckered full lips. He saw her laughing, her deep red hair glittering in the neon lights of New Orleans. He saw her vulnerable and in need beneath him. The image that stuck in his mind the strongest was her lovingly bathing Gabriel, her eyes soft and full of a growing love. He would marry her as soon as they were back together. He wouldn’t wait another minute. New Orleans was full of dark corners and unknown things. As soon as he could get the justice of the peace to do it, he would take her out of that tainted beautiful city. They would escape to a simpler place.

  Two cars rolled onto the dirt road from the highway. They were both black, long and sleek. There was no mistaking who it could possibly be. The deeply tinted windows were perfect for a weakened vampire traveling a sunlit city in the middle of the day. The cars came to a stop and two individuals stepped from the first vehicle and three from the third.

  Marcus greeted them with a grimace. He eyed Niall with an air of distaste.

  “So, this is the tiger?”

  “We didn’t tell you that.” James said.

  “Well, no…” He wrinkled his porcelain colored nose. “But I can smell him.” Marcus grinned suddenly, making him look even more like an eighteen year old boy. “He certainly smells better than you.”

  James bit down on his tongue. There wasn’t time to bicker.

  “Have any of you actually been on this property?”

  “I have.” Niall said. “But it was at night, and we didn’t go any further than the house.” He raised his shoulders. “I have no idea how far back the property goes.”

  “Neighbors?”

  “Not many. The house is situated at the end of the road.”

  “Good.” Marcus said. “If police are called by the humans we will have to scatter.”

  Niall narrowed his eyes. “Scatter? We aren’t going anywhere until I have Sinclair back.”

  Marcus looked at Angela and James. “Who?”

  “She’s the human involved in this.” James said. “She’s also Niall’s mate.”

  “Ah.” Marcus said with a curt nod. “It doesn’t matter though. You know the code of conduct. Minimal exposure to the humans, no matter what kind of paranormal you are. I’d hate to commit a capital crime tonight because the cops were called.”

  “Oh yeah, you’re such an upstanding citizen.” James whispered. Angela pinched his side, making him jump.

  “What’s that, freak?”

  “I said you’re an upstanding citizen.” He shot Angela a dark look and rubbed his side. He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “You’ll pay for that later.”

  “Promise?” Angela smiled sweetly.

  Marcus watched them with a frown. ‘The two of you are acting funny. It’s almost like…” His eyes grew large. “Oh God…Angela I thought you had better sense than that.”

  “Are you going to introduce us to your soldiers?”

  Marcus looked back at the vampires standing completely still behind him. They looked uncomfortable to be working with a witch and two shifters. Their eyes didn’t stop a constant circuit over Angela, James, and Niall. Two of them had long black hair pulled back from their stony faces. They were tall and their age wouldn’t be easily guessed. The other two looked closer to Marcus as far as age, and were smaller in stature. One was blonde the other had deep brown hair. They looked like the average young man seen anywhere in New Orleans, dressed in jeans and t-shirts. The only give away to their true nature was the paleness of their blue eyes tinged with red. New vampires. No older than a year.

  “Are you sure they are experienced enough for this?” Angela asked, indicating the younger ones.

  “Of course. They were created for nothing more than situations like this.” He looked at the vampires and opened his arm wide. “James, Niall, and Angela.” He turned back to them and shot a thumb over his shoulder. “You don’t need to know their names.”

  “That’s great.” James said, crossing his arms. “If we are in the heat of battle and an unholy undead is bearing down on one of them, I’ll just yell: Hey, sucker in the black suit, look out!”

  Marcus stared at James without expression.

  “Let’s get going.” Niall said impatiently. “It’s going to take at least forty five minutes to get there, and we still need to find a place to stash the cars.” He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he went to the Mustang and jerked the door open.

  Sinclair sat in the back of the Suburban beside Latasha. The two women should have been enemies based on normal societal expectations. Sinclair was the jilted girlfriend, Latasha was the new girlfriend. But, circumstances being what they were had forced the two women into a bond that intertwined their very survivals together. Latasha understood it too and grabbed Sinclair’s hand, squeezing tightly, as the Suburban bounced into what was once Carla’s driveway. Sinclair wished
the old woman would appear at the doorway in her house dress, a cigarette hanging from her wrinkled lips. The house remained dark.

  The engine died and Sinclair let out a long line of breath. Her stomach had butterflies and she was sure she would vomit. A day without nothing but liquid was catching up with her. Bile rose in her throat. A small line of headlights appeared behind them as Claude and his people arrived.

  The back passenger door opened and Joseph jerked Sinclair from the vehicle.

  “Stay put.” He trotted to the house and mounted the steps, disappearing inside. A moment later the little house blazed with light.

  Sinclair moved close to Latasha. “If you make it out of here, and I don’t, I need you to try and get to Angela’s. Do you know who I mean?”

  Latasha nodded, looking over Sinclair’s head to where Enrique stood talking to his two men.

  “Niall will need to know.”

  “I think he will find you.” He dark eyes lowered to Sinclair’s.

  “I hope so.”

  Claude came around the back of the Suburban. He allowed his eyes to graze Sinclair, but he said nothing. His surprise at seeing her at Joseph’s thirty minutes earlier had been a good performance. Sinclair wasn’t sure if it was truly a performance. She had no way of knowing if Claude had talked to Angela or Niall since her disappearance, but she was sure if he had then he knew. The way he had argued with Joseph and Enrique about it had earned him another mark on his already battered face.

  They all waited for Joseph to return; each group involved in their own quiet discussions. Latasha and Sinclair watched in silence. The night seemed to be pressing in on them, causing them to stand shoulder to shoulder.

  Several minutes later, Joseph reemerged from the house, a box firmly under one arm. He pulled two flashlights out and handed them to Enrique’s men. The entire group moved closer to Joseph. Claude had at least fifteen people with him.

  “Tonight will be the end of your meager existences.” Joseph’s voice rang out clear in the night. “Tonight you will forget the myth and empty promises of Voodoo as you become your own masters.”

  Murmurs of appreciation rose from behind Claude. Sinclair stole a look at him, but saw only a tense wariness. He didn’t seem to be in agreement.

  “Come.” Joseph said simply.

  Both of Enrique’s men dropped to the back of the pack to bring up the rear. Sinclair recognized that it had less to do with the flashlights to help the others see, as it was about making sure no one did anything stupid.

  Claude and a few of his men actually lit torches. Sinclair swallowed against the feeling that they were walking into the woods to be transported back to another time. Perhaps they would worm hole to Massachusetts in the 1600’s. Maybe it was a real witch hunt and she would be burned at the stake.

  They walked into the woods, the ground moist and soft under their feet as they approached swamp. Joseph stopped just as the wetness seeped into Sinclair’s shoes. The area had already been prepared. There were stands for the torches and a small platform had been erected.

  He really is planning a show.

  Sinclair watched with growing unease as Joseph opened the box and pulled the color changing cloth bag from inside. Enrique’s lips parted in a smile. It felt like a dream. It was B rated movie and she was just an actor. At any moment the credits would roll, or someone would shake her awake.

  Niall could see the torch light in the distance. It was a flickering thing that moved like a snake through the trees beyond. He knew the source for the light was currently moving. They hadn’t reached their destination. Stashing the cars had been a hassle. They had finally opted to parking two of the vehicles in the driveway of an abandoned house and leaving the other two in low brush near the same house. At that point he cared less about the cars. Cars could be replaced. People could not.

  They had entered Carla’s property just west, but were able to see the house. Niall had wanted use it as a marker. When they saw it was lit up, and there were several vehicles parked there, he knew that had been their starting point.

  James came up beside him, his posture more hunched than Niall’s due to his height. They were all moving at a steady pace, but kept their bodies lower to the ground. Even Angela had opted for jeans and a loose fitting shirt; she too moving low, her usual ridged posture bent.

  “I hope Claude was right about there not being any plan for perimeter guards.” James whispered.

  “I doubt there will be. They think that the only ones who know about this will already be there.” Niall shook her head. “They’re moving pretty far in.”

  “It’s swamp out there.” One of the nameless vampires chimed in, his voice monotone. Niall didn’t turn to see which had spoken, but he was pretty sure it was one of the stony faced undead in the black suits. “Swamps mean gators.”

  “Great.” Niall breathed.

  The lights blinked, and for a moment Niall thought they had gone out completely, or perhaps the procession had gone underground. They reappeared again, and to his relief stopped their steady progression.

  “Alright.” Niall said in a low voice. He crouched all the way to the ground, his fingers splayed on the ground in front of his feet. It was good that the entire group could see like animals. They didn’t have need for light. “We’ll get a little closer then we will fan out as planned. Just make sure you are no more than ten yards away from each other. I’m expecting the group to be slightly bunched up.”

  All heads nodded their understanding. Angela was the only one to add any instructions. She reached out and grabbed Niall and James by the wrist.

  “Don’t shift until it’s absolutely necessary.”

  “I say let them shift right away. They will become faster than and as strong as three men then.” Marcus said.

  “When you do shift,” Angela continued ignoring Marcus’s input. “Target Enrique and his men. As far as we know they will be the only ones of your kind there.”

  James and Niall nodded, both feeling the pull and stretch starting in their skin.

  The group continued on, their footsteps softer and eventually silent as they stepped onto the marshy earth.

  Sinclair licked her lips, a shudder running through her body. Joseph had taken the stone from the bag and held it above his head with a gloved hand. The torch light flickered across the stone, causing the colors to shift and change. A hush fell over the waiting crowd.

  “There are many stories about this stone. Many myths. The only thing that needs to be said about it is that it belonged to a witch. She created it. She used the blood of other supernaturally inclined people and cast a spell on this stone. Now it has the ability to change the flesh. All you have to do is wish what you desire your flesh to become and it will be.”

  Sinclair stole a glance at Claude. He looked older suddenly, but his eyes glinted greedily in the firelight. She looked at as many of the others as she could see. They all had the same look. The promise of what was to come was overtaking their fears. A short man with braids running along his scalp spoke loudly at Joseph.

  “How will we know it works? We all paid our hundred dollars to be here, but how will we know it’s not a scam?”

  Joseph smiled down at him. “I’m going to demonstrate it for you. It will work on anyone, but for some people it will work faster and better.” He looked down at Sinclair. “Bring her up!”

  Sinclair’s immediate reaction was to run. Both of Enrique’s men were on her before she could move, a hand clamped firmly on each upper arm. She struggled against them, her heels digging into the earth.

  “No!”

  “Why does she fight if this is a good thing?” The man with braids yelled out. Several people nodded in agreement.

  “Because she doesn’t understand the true power yet!” Joseph called out. “She doesn’t know what’s best for her.”

  Latasha hurried to Sinclair trying to push her way past the short blonde man who held one side of Sinclair. He pushed her to the ground and kept moving Sinc
lair to the platform.

  “Wait! Let me go with her!”

  The two men looked to Enrique and he nodded his consent, interest sparking his features.

  As the two women stepped onto the platform, Enrique’s men still holding Sinclair, Sinclair looked over the crowd. The slightest of movements had caught her attention in the darkness beyond. It could have been an animal, but she could have sworn it was a person, low to the ground. Her heart beat faster. She prayed it was Niall. She jerked out of the men’s grasp and stepped forward.

  “This little bond between you women is fascinating.” Enrique said, a cold smile playing on his lips. “Perhaps when this is all over the three of us can have a little fun.”

  “I want no more of your fun.” Latasha ground out, her teeth set. Enrique only laughed in response, turning his attentions back to Joseph.

  “Let’s show them both examples.”

  “No.” Sinclair said firmly. “You want to use me as the guinea pig, then do it, but leave Latasha out of it!”

  Enrique stepped forward and grabbed Latasha. “You don’t make the decisions here.”

  Sinclair reached for Latasha, but Enrique’s men were on her again. Her struggles were worthless.

  Joseph kissed Latasha on the cheek before forcing her to her knees by the back of her neck. He motioned with his head for Sinclair to be brought forward too. Latasha looked at Sinclair from the corner of her eye, tears leaking onto the wood beneath her. Another hush had fallen over the crowd. Some stood on tiptoe to ensure they missed nothing.

  Joseph flipped Latasha’s braids out of the way and laid the stone on the back of her neck. At first nothing happened. She was about to grin at Sinclair, when the burning began. At first it was only a mild discomfort, but it quickly became an ice pick type of stabbing pain that sent fire down her spine. Joseph let go of her, a surprised smile on his face, as Latasha flipped to her back and began convulsing.

  “What have you done?” Sinclair screamed.

  Joseph whipped his head in her direction. The crowd was a mixture of awe and terror. A few had hands over their mouths, others smiled and cheered. Joseph grabbed Sinclair by the back of the head, forcing her head down to expose her neck. He looked up just as the stone was about to touch her flesh. A crashing sound came from behind the crowd and he saw a flash of orange and black streak through the air. He squinted his eyes and drew his mouth down in a final act of rebellion, pressing the stone into Sinclair’s flesh.