BAD BOY ROMANCE: DIESEL: Contemporary Bad Boy Biker MC Romance (Box Set) (New Adult Sports Romance Short Stories Boxset) (25 page)

Sinclair entered the bedroom and looked down at Niall’s curled up frame.  He was such a handsome man, but at times a very hard one.  She wondered what it would feel like to run her hands through his short black hair.  Would it be course, soft, or that perfect somewhere in between? She reached an unsteady hand forward, praying he wouldn’t wake up, and gently ran her fingers through his hair. 

Niall’s eyes flew open and he was up and straddling Sinclair’s where he had tossed her with lightning speed onto the bed.  He raised a hand, claw like, as if to swipe it across her face. 

Sinclair let out a scream and covered her head. 

Niall’s fierce expression faded as he realized who she was and what he had done.  He pulled her arms off of her head, hating the tears which leaked from the corners of her eyes.

“You startled me.”  He whispered. 

Sinclair, wide eyed, couldn’t find the words she wanted.  The only ones that came out made no sense, but what she was
seeing
made no sense. 

“Your eyes…they’re changing.”

“What?”             

“They were amber for a second.”

Niall thought quickly.  “Trick of the light.” 

Sinclair wanted to argue the point, but was suddenly very aware that he was still straddled on top of her.  He had planted a hand on either side of her shoulders, and was staring down at her with intensity.  He didn’t look angry.  He didn’t look happy.  He looked
hungry
.

“You’re so beautiful, Sinclair, but you don’t see it.” 

“I am when I’m made up.”  She replied weakly.  She could no longer concentrate on anything but the shape of his lips. 

“You don’t need that stuff.”  He replied, his head moving lower towards hers. 

Sinclair didn’t have a response.  All she cared about was his lips, and the way the heat coming off his body was making her head reel. 

Niall kissed her hard, forcing her lips apart.  She tasted like mints, the cinnamon kind, and he couldn’t taste enough. He moved his head, his lips still on hers and shifted his weight so one knee could push her legs open.  He wanted to feel their bodies entwined, he wanted to see how the fit would feel.  He thrust against her and smiled into her mouth at how perfect it truly was. 

Sinclair wanted this strange man like she had never wanted another before, but red flags and dinging alarms were going off in her head. 

I barely know him
! 
This is no time for lusty encounters
!

Sinclair raised up on her elbows, a low tortured sound coming from her chest as he ground his hips against her again, his hands grabbing at her hair, and his growing erection trying to push past the zipper of his jeans.  She pushed against his chest, and turned her head to the side.

“Niall!”  She breathed.  “Niall…wait.” 

He leaned back and looked at her with concern.  “Did I hurt you?”

“No…no…that’s not it.”  She slid upward on the bed, and he reached for her.  “What are we doing, Niall?”

Niall sat back and rested his hands on his thighs.  “I don’t know…I’m sorry.”

It was Sinclair’s turn to grab for him.  “Don’t be sorry!  I just don’t want to do one night stands.” 

Niall considered this with a nod.  “I don’t either.” 

“You don’t?”

He turned and sat with his back to her, his shaking hands clasped between his knees. 

“No, I don’t.  I don’t believe in it.” 

Sinclair touched her lips.  She wanted him back on top of her.  The situation had taken a further turn into the strange, but she liked this part.  Yet…

“We should just take it slow.  We have a hard thing to do here.”

“Yeah.” 

“I found Joseph’s Grandmother.”

Niall turned and looked at her.  “How?”

She smiled and shrugged.  “I called every Overman in the book.” 

Niall returned her smile.  This one was a keeper. 

“I can’t imagine Joseph growing up out here in Bayou country.”  Sinclair said as they pulled into the gravel driveway of a modular home.  A hound bayed them a welcome song. 

Niall scanned the house for movement and focused on the silhouette that appeared in the doorway.  Only one light was burning in the house.

“Let’s go.” 

They got out of the car and were startled by a woman yelling for “Oscar” to “come here” and “stop that fussing”.  Sinclair recognized the voice, and wasn’t surprised to see the cigarette hanging from the woman’s lips.  She had on a house dress and slippers with multi colored socks.  Her short gray hair was in need of a curling. 

“Well, you must be Sinclair.”

“Yes, Mam.”

“And who’s this?”  The old woman asked, eying Niall warily.

“This is Niall.  He’s a friend helping me find Joseph.

She nodded once, and held the screen door open for them.  “Well, come inside.”

The little house was packed with various knick knacks and mismatched furniture, but Sinclair could smell the distinctive lingering odor of bleach, and knew that the woman kept the house clean.  

“Ya’ll want some coffee or something?”

“No thank you.”  Niall and Sinclair said in unison. 

“Sit down.”  She motioned to the kitchen table. 

Sinclair smiled lightly at the penguin salt and pepper shakers. 

“So, you’re looking for Joseph.”  She said flatly, and crushed her cigarette out in an ashtray. 

“Yes.”  Sinclair licked her lips.  “The truth is, I was his girlfriend, but it’s a little more complicated than that.”

She nodded, her pale blue eyes knowing.  “Yeah, I thought as much.  Are you pregnant then?”

Sinclair’s mouth flew open.  “What?”

“There’s no shame in it, honey, I mean he already has a son he never sees.”

“He…what?”

“Yeah…little boy nearly five years old.”

Niall glanced at Sinclair.  Her face had turned a scarlet red. 

“And where is he?” 

The woman jerked her thumb towards the hallway.  “In his room playing.”

“You’re raising him?”  Sinclair couldn’t believe what she was hearing.  Joseph was more of a dead beat than she had previously thought.

“I am.  It’s hard, with my age and all, but at least his mother sends money to help out.  Joseph…well I already told you I hadn’t heard a word for two years.”

Sinclair placed her palms flat on the table and took a deep breath.  “Mrs. Overman…”

“Carla.  You can call me Carla.”

“Carla, Joseph is in some trouble back in Florida.” 

The woman barked a laugh and lit another cigarette.  “I bet he his!” 

“The problem is, he has gotten me tangled up in it too.  He stole something from a very dangerous man.” 

The woman took a drag of her cigarette and nodded.  “Would that something be in a velvet bag?”

Niall and Sinclair looked at each other quickly. 

“Yes, Mam, it is, but we aren’t sure what he has exactly.” 

“It’s a pendant of sorts.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.  It’s old.  He showed it to me, and that black girl he was with…”  She shook her head.  “Well, her eyes lit up like the fourth of July when he pulled it out of the bag.  Must not have been but so good though, because she started mumbling in Creole and crossed herself.  I didn’t like the thing, but it was pretty.  It had some kind of black fancy trim, but the stone…well, it just didn’t look right.”

“What do you mean?”  Niall asked. 

“It didn’t have a distinct color.  One way it looked blood red, another it looked black, yet another turn of the wrist and it was a deep dark green.”  She narrowed one eye and pointed at them with her half smoked cigarette.  “The thing that got me was how it made me
feel
.” 

“How did it make you feel?”  Sinclair whispered, remembering the words of the man on the floor in Joseph’s apartment.

“Like the damn thing was watching me!”

They sat in silence for several seconds.  Niall had a prickling at the base of his skull, and wiped his hand back there to try and make it stop.

“Did he say what he planned on doing with it?  Is he going to sell it?”

“Said he already tried, but the woman…Angela I think he said…she wouldn’t touch it.  Told him if he ever set foot in her place again she would put a curse on him.”  Carla cackled.  “A
curse
!”

“What will he do with it then?”  Niall asked.

“I don’t know, but he better get rid of it.” 

“Why do you say that?”

The woman stood and took a glass from the cabinet.  She filled it with tap water and drank like her life depended on it.  Movement caught Sinclair’s eye and she saw the little boy of Joseph’s standing in the hallway.  He had curly brown hair and deep set dark eyes.  His sin had the dusky hue of one who’s mixed with other races.  In a word, the child was beautiful.  He chewed on the tip of his finger and Sinclair was horrified to see that he had made himself bleed. 

“He’s bleeding!”  She exclaimed and pushed back from the table.

Carla hurried to the boy and pulled him towards the sink, speaking softly to him.  She rinsed his hand and wrapped a paper towel around it. 

“What happened to his neck?”  Niall asked.

Carla turned the boy around and stared at the spot on his neck.  It was oddly shaped, similar to a hexagon, but warped, and not quite right.  Carla backed away and pursed her lips. 

“It’s the stone.”

“What?”  Niall asked, feeling the air leave his lungs.

“They must have marked him with it!”

“I don’t understand.”  Sinclair said, her eyes darting from the boy to his great grandmother’s ashen face. 

“It’s the same shape as the stone…and look…”  She turned the boy towards the light, gently moving him back and forth by the shoulders.  The mark on the back of his neck changed.  It looked like a bruise of black and purple, then it became a bruise of dark green and deep red.  She stared at them, her old eyes frightened and confused.  “It’s the colors of the stone.”

Sinclair wanted to roll the window down of their rented Mustang and howl at the moon.  A madness was creeping into her mind using tendrils of horror to poke and probe.  She twisted in the seat and glared at Niall’s slight hunch over the steering wheel.  He was no longer laid back and casual in his gestures; he was driving from Carlas house like the devil himself chased them. 

“That child…”

The skin around his eyes tightened.  “I doubt that child was right before.”

“Before?”

He shot her a hard look.  “Before they…did…whatever to him!”   Niall swallowed and gripped the steering wheel tighter.  Just two bounties left, one for the paranormal and one for the humans.  Just two and he was done; off to retire from the craziness of this life.  Crazy just had just gone to a whole new level and he didn’t see an end to it in sight.  No, it was just beginning. 

“Gabriel.”

“What?”

“The child’s name…Gabriel.  It seems an odd name considering.”

Niall let air out of his lungs and growled.  “Considering what?  Considering that your boyfriend is messed up in the voodoo and his baby’s momma most likely was too?”

“Carla didn’t know that for sure.”  Sinclair chose to ignore Niall’s use of the word ‘boyfriend’ in the present tense.   

Niall jerked one hand off of the steering wheel and shot it upwards.  “She doesn’t know anything for sure!”  He tilted his head to the side.  “What old woman just takes her great grandchild to raise, with no questions asked?”

“The same old woman who raised her grandson before.” 

“And that’s another thing.  Does this family just pop out babies and leave them for the elderly to raise?”

Sinclair shrugged helplessly.  She knew it was a growing problem in the United States, especially among the impoverished, but she couldn’t answer his question.  She didn’t know the dynamics of this particular family.  Joseph had hidden, or outright lied, about every aspect of his life.

“I need to call Enrique.”

“Why?”

“I need to know if Joseph wanted a different job before he was hired as a grounds keeper.  I need to know the circumstance of their initial arrangement.”

“What difference would that make?”

“A lot.”  Niall glanced at her again feeling a moment of pity for her pale face.  The glow of the dash gave her an almost sickly look.  For all he knew she may very well have been feeling sick.  “Joseph may have known about the stone before Enrique hired him.” 

“Motive.”

“Exactly.” 

Their hotel suite was a welcome sight, and Sinclair pulled the drapes tightly shut, cutting on every light.  The stairwell and hallway had been lit with soft pinkish lights, and she supposed it was meant to be soothing or even sexy, but all it had done was add to her anxiety and made her feel like they were being followed.  She blamed it on too many cheesy horror movies. 

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.