BAD BOY ROMANCE: DIESEL: Contemporary Bad Boy Biker MC Romance (Box Set) (New Adult Sports Romance Short Stories Boxset) (37 page)

“I think it has something to do with my father.” 

Angela closed the large book and swiveled in her chair to replace it to its usual spot.  “He probably was a warlock then.” 

Sinclair blinked at her dismissive tone.  “A warlock?  That’s a male version of a witch.”

“Yes.  Females tend to be more prone to witchcraft, but there is the occasional male.  Do you have contact with your father?  I mean I’m assuming you don’t since this is only a
possibility.
” 

“No.  I haven’t see nor talked to him in years.” 

Angela nodded.  “Well, that would explain the latent potential I can detect in you.  Your mother obviously has no abilities, correct?”

“She’s a mastermind at closed mouthedness.”

Angela smiled.  “I see.  Well, it doesn’t matter.  You’re potential is there.  Once we are able to put this nasty business of Joseph Overman behind, you and I can start working together on bringing it out.  The ability to read minds simply because you
wished
to, is spectacular all by itself.”  She stood and motioned for the door.  “Perhaps we should see what the guys are up to before they break something.” 

“One other thing.”  Sinclair stopped her with a chest level raised hand.  “Gabriel.  Is there a way to try and find out if he has other relatives…I mean other than Joseph?”

“I figured you and Niall would tire of him.” 

“I’m not tired of him.  I want to keep him.” 

Angela raised an eyebrow.  “
Keep
him?  Sinclair, I don’t think you understand what you would be taking on.”

“I know it would be a struggle, but I feel like Gabriel is with me for a reason.  He behaves better with me, and I’m already seeing improvement in him in just the day and a half that he’s been with me.” 

“Yes, I see it too, but you have no idea what long term care the child will need.” 

“I don’t think any.  I think we can fix him.”

Angela pursed her lips.  “With the stone.”

“Yes.”

She threw her hands up in the air.  ‘That stone should have been destroyed decades ago!  You haven’t even seen it or touched it and you’re obsessed!”

“No.  I don’t want to use it for my own gain.  I want to use it to fix Gabriel.  He’s been through enough and needs someone to love and care for him.  Did you know that he’s only called out for ‘Grandma’ one time?  Now what does that tell you?”

Angela raised both eyebrows and worked her jaw.  “It tells me a lot, actually.”

“Exactly my point.”  Sinclair’s eyes pleaded with her.  “When the time is right, will you help me?”

“And Niall, what does he think?”

“The same as you.”  Sinclair lowered her voice in pitch and furrowed her brow deeply in Niall’s characteristic way.  “You don’t know what kind of special care he’ll need!  Why does he paint his cheeks with syrup?”

Angela laughed out loud with a hand over her mouth.  “Ah, Sinclair, but you are a treat!”

“What’s so funny in here?”  James appeared in the doorway.  “Sinclair, your little dog is trying to bite some woman who works here.  I think she’s going to put a hex on him.” 

Sinclair rushed from the room and down the first flight of stairs.  She found Niall with one arm across his middle and the other crooked under his chin.  He looked up at Sinclair with a silent shake of the head.  Gabriel was in fighting stance in front of a woman who spoke to him in rapid Creole.  She had a broom and swatted at him every time he lunged.

“You stop that right now!”  Sinclair said and advanced on the woman, yanking the broom from her hands.  She recognized her as the one who had been behind the Voodoo counter in the attic on their second visit to Angela’s.

“Little monster.”  She murmured, her accent thick. 

“Enough.”  Angela said.  “Sadie, please don’t swat children with the broom.”

“He try to bite me!” 

“It’s alright.  There’s a reason for it.  Go on upstairs.” 

The woman gave Gabriel a dark look, but smiled sweetly at Sinclair before sashaying up the stairs.  Gabriel stuck his tongue out and loudly blew spit on the floor.

Sinclair took his hand and looked at Angela blankly.  “See…he’s acting more like a little boy already.”

The overhead bell chimed and a stocky Hispanic man walked in.  He went directly to Angela and nearly bowed, a hat of some sort tightly clenched in his hands.  Sinclair expected his next words to be “my lady”. 

“Good evening, Javier.”

The man eyed everyone around him with the wary eye of someone who is never quite at ease. 

“Maybe we speak alone?”

“No, it’s fine.  We can speak here.  What is it?”

“You wish me to tell you if anyone lands or takes off from dirt airstrip in the Bayou?” 

“Yes.”

“A Leer land this morning.” 

“Alright.  The usual rabble of criminal or something different?”

“Something different.”

Niall could feel the muscles along his back tense.  It was the type of sensation someone gets when they are about to get earth shattering news, but the words hadn’t actually been spoken yet. 

“Who owned the jet, Javier?” 

“Enrique Arrays.” 

Angela shot Niall a hard look.  “Did you call him?”

“Not a chance.” 

“No…”  Javier began.  “He wasn’t the one. Joseph Overman met him at the strip.”

“
What?
”  Sinclair exclaimed.

The stocky man nodded rapidly.  “I put the plane in the hanger.  I get paid.  That’s all.”

Angela reached a hand out and squeezed his forearm.  The hat in his hands was nearly mangled from his constant squeeze and release.  He obviously was not comfortable around Angela, and their presence made it worse.  

“It’s fine, Javier.  You did your job, and that’s all anyone can ask for.  How many came with him?”

“Only two others.”  He reached a hand towards the ceiling.  “One very large man, tan like me, but I don’t think Hispanic.  The other shorter like me but very white and very blonde.”

“Which one flew the plane?”

“Mr. Arrays did.”  Javier lowered his eyes before lifting them slowly to her again.  “He’s a powerful man.  I know his name, but this first time meeting him.  He tip big.”

“Explain what you mean by powerful.”

Javier flicked his tongue out nervously, a sweat stain forming in the center of his chambray shirt. 

“He’s powerful with the guns and drugs.  He runs people too.”

“We’ve seen his kind in New Orleans before.  I mean the parish past…”

“No, mam.”  He waved a hand gently to stop her.  “He’s different than that…worse.  And he’s…”

Angela was growing impatient.  “He’s what?  Just spit it out!”

“Not natural.”  He finished just above a whisper. 

Angela’s patience was at an end.  She turned to Niall.  “Did you know this?”

“Yes.”  He wouldn’t look at Sinclair’s incredulous face.  Angela’s was bad enough.

“It might have been beneficial to know that!”  She snapped.  “Now his possession of the stone has far greater implications!  What is he?  What kind of paranormal?” 

Niall glanced at the little man Javier, but he didn’t seem perplexed by anything but Angela’s teeming presence.

“He’s a shifter…a wolf…as far as I know.”  Niall relied.

Javier looked nervously from Niall to Angela.  They were in some type of staring war, but it looked almost like they were communicating. 

Devil!  I knew you were!  Do you protect him?  Do you work with him
?

No
!

Angela tore her eyes from Niall and gave Javier a pained smile.  She walked to the cash register, an old fashioned none electric one, tall and made of black iron.  She pushed a single button and withdrew a bill when the drawer popped open with a
ding
.  She folded the bill into Javier’s hand. 

“Thank you, Javier.  Please, let me know if there is any more information.”

“Si! Gracias!”  He hurried from the store, obviously happy to be leaving.  The money in his hand was just a secondary bonus to being free of Angela’s possible wrath.

Sinclair turned on Niall the minute Javier was gone.  “You ass!  Why didn’t you tell me?”

Niall was at his end.  He’d had enough.  “Tell you what, Sinclair?  You didn’t even know I was a shifter!  Would it have made anything better for you?  You didn’t know this world existed beyond fairy tales until a little over a day ago!”  He pointed at the floor for emphasis.  “You wouldn’t have comprehended it!” 

Sinclair felt her face grow hot.  Gabriel still clung to her hand, but he was growling low in his throat at Niall.  James heard it and went to him, lifting him in his arms, talking quietly, moving him through the store to get him out of the direct situation. 

“No.”  Sinclair reluctantly conceded.  “I probably wouldn’t have, but Angela at least should have known.”

“Fair enough.” 

“I wonder if Claude knew.”  Angela said quietly.  “He definitely should have told me.”

“I’m sorry, Sinclair.” 

She shook her head and fought off tears by glancing at the ceiling.  “Me too.  I’m sorry I ever got involved in this mess.  I should have just done my time in prison.”                 

Claude Monroe stepped into the shack Joseph Overman called his home with true fear and trepidation.  Enrique Arrays was only a name he had heard in passing.  It was a name synonymous with Florida and smuggling and all other sorts of nasty business.  Anyone in that line of work knew Enrique Arrays was a man to be respected.  The fact that he was also a paranormal made Claude’s old skin crawl. 

The front door led straight in to the living room.  Cracked linoleum floor of indeterminate color seemed to be the theme for the whole place.  He could see the kitchen from where he was standing, and was surprised to see there weren’t stacks of dishes.  One bedroom and a tiny bathroom were on the opposite side of the room.  Joseph sat alone in the living room, a sick grin stretching his skinny face. 

“Just think, I only have to pay four fifty a month for this fine home.”

“You’re being cheated.”  Claude said, raising his eyes to the dirty ceiling to watch the fast progression of a black spider. 

“Now that’s not fair, Claude.  It just needs a good coat of paint!” 

“Did you insist I come here so we can discuss your home’s disrepair?”

Joseph’s grin vanished.  “No.  You’re here because I want to understand why you’re knee deep in crap with Angela and her pet tiger. 

I finally put my hand in one too many cookie jars.
  Claude thought glumly. 
It’s about to bite me in the ass
!

“I’m not
in
anything with her or the shifter.  She came to my house, wanted to know about you, and then insisted I call you.  That’s it!” 

“That’s not it.  You summoned half of your posse to ensure Angela and that freak took me!”

Claude opened his hands palm up.  “It’s all about who pays the most.” 

“Now that’s a fine load of crap, old friend, because I know Angela didn’t pay you a dime.  The money on my head came from somewhere else and she had nothing to do with it.” 

“What did it have to do with then?”

“Me.”  Enrique said quietly and stepped from behind the bedroom door.  “I put a price on his pretty little head.  He stole the stone from
me
to begin with.” 

Claude ran his tongue over his lower lip.  His throat felt like it was seizing.  There was no other possibility as to who was standing before him. 

“Seems like you both have it all figured out then.  Why do you need me?”

Enrique smiled.  To Claude it was one of the most evil things he had ever seen. 

“Why, didn’t you know?  We’re going to take over the city of New Orleans.”  Enrique stepped forward in the dim light, allowing his animal eyes to change to amber, and his vampire fangs to drop into sight.  “We’re going to create an army of hybrid undead…and you’re going to help us.”

Claude Monroe shifted his eyes from Joseph Overman to Enrique Arrays.  Enrique smiled coldly and turned his head from side to side.  A mild popping noise emitted into the silent room.  Claude licked his lips. 

“A hybrid undead army?”

“Yes.”  The smile stretched.  “I’ve been wanting to expand my territories.  New Orleans has always held a certain je ne sais quoi for me.  I don’t know why I haven’t ventured here sooner.”

“Right.”  Claude said quietly.  “I guess the fact that this city is run by the Voudon priests wasn’t a deterrent.”

Enrique heisted a split second before he threw his head back with a booming laugh.  “
Voudon priests
?”  He shook his head.  “Give me a break.” 

Claude willed himself to relax, but his body refused to obey.  He was prey and the predators had picked up his scent. 

“How am I supposed to help?”

Enrique stepped forward.  “You have cannon fodder as Joseph so elegantly put it.  We can build the army with your followers.”

Claude’s eyes grew large.  “My followers?  I can’t let you fool around with them!  They…they belong to me.”

Enrique shook his head slowly.  “Not anymore, but think about it.  You will be bringing them their wildest dreams.  You will make those dreams come true….well…you will assist.  That will make them as loyal to you as to myself and Joseph.”

Claude stared at the floor considering as Joseph glanced at Enrique quickly. 

“How would that benefit me?”

Enrique’s cold smile returned.  “They will do anything for you.”

“They already do.”

“Not on the level I’m talking about.  You will become invincible.  You will be like a god.”

“I don’t want to be a god.”  Claude kept his gaze steady.

“Yes, you do.”

Claude couldn’t deny it.  “And if I refuse?”

Enrique stepped forward, his face turning to shadow. 

“Then we will have to change your mind.”

Angela didn’t look up from her work as steps sounded on the spiral staircase.  She was expecting her motley crew to return at any moment.  She finished filling the last of small bottle, a concoction of root powders and crushed mint, and looked up to see James standing alone at the top of the staircase.  His eyes roamed freely over the attic space, a glint of appreciation and interest in his gray eyes. 

“Looks like the goth version of Bath and Body Works.” 

Angela twisted her mouth and placed her hands on her hips.  “You’re early.  Where are the others?”

He shrugged.  “Probably still rutting or something.”

“So they have reconciled?”

“I don’t know.  She was silent on the way back to the hotel.  I took Gabriel and left the car with them.  They said they would return soon.”  He leveled his stare, his eyes gray intense.  “Maybe we should reconcile.  Could be fun.”

She moved gracefully from behind the long counter, purposefully brushing past him, yet not quite touching him, as she pretended to straighten a shelf of dusty books.  James followed her progression past himself with a turn of the head. 

“Coy minx.”  He breathed. 

Angela looked at him from the corner of her eye.  “Now why would you say that?”

He turned his body to her, his thumbs hooked in the belt loops of his worn jeans.  “Aren’t you the least bit curious where the little dog boy is at?”

“No, not really.  I assume you’ve hung him by the rafters or something.”

He smiled thinly.  “He’s downstairs eating a sweet bread one of your silent servants prepared.”

“Is he now?”  She said and tilted her head, chin jutting forward.  Her face was unreadable, but James rolled the dice anyway.   

“Yep, and I bet he’ll be down there for a while.”  He moved towards her slowly, stopping a couple of steps away.

“What do you want, James?”

He shrugged and attempt at keeping things casual.  “I thought we could maybe have dinner sometime.”

“Dinner?  Why don’t you cut to the chase?”

James couldn’t tell if she was toying with him or serious.  He kept his face neutral. 

“I would like an opportunity to get to know you better, Angela.  That’s all.” 

“Now, that’s refreshing.” 

James backed up and looked to the ceiling, turning a wide circle.  “Did you hear that ghosties?  She said
refreshing
, not
come suck the soul out of this man
!”

Angela put a hand over her mouth and laughed.  “They aren’t here right now.  But I’ll make sure to give them the message.”  Her good humor faded, and James watched her posture change.  “You know this would never work out.”  She stood straight with her hands clasped in front of her.  James had seen the stance a few times over the past couple days, and had already learned to recognize it as her all business posture.  He studied her for a moment wondering if it sometimes was used as a shield against emotion.

“We’re unique, Angela.  I wouldn’t dismiss anything presently.”

“I’m too old for you.”

James barked a laugh.  “We’re near immortals.  I hardly think our original birth years matter.”  

They turned their heads as footsteps clanked loudly up the stairs and Niall’s voice could be heard arguing with Sinclair.  Gabriel chimed in every few syllables with a hoot.  Angela and James exchanged an amused look. 

“We could get a justice of the peace here!”

“You just say that because you want…well…what you want!  I want to plan a wedding!  I want the whole shebang!  You hide things…I can’t trust you.  My God, this is such a mess!” 

“Justice of the peace?”  Angela said demurely.  “Congratulations.”  Her shoulders shook slightly as silent laughter tried to escape.  Niall had Gabriel on his back and the boy hooted in one ear, then ducked to the other side to try and bite the other.  Niall looked like he was swatting a fly.  The boy was just too quick for him.  Sinclair was in one of her usual pairs of capris with a button down baby pink shirt.  Angela frowned at the sight of her.  She looked like she was losing weight, and there were bags under her eyes.

“Thanks.  I guess.”  Sinclair mumbled, taking Gabriel from Niall’s back. 

Angela studied the boy carefully.  Whatever Sinclair was doing with him she was doing it right.  He was clean and acting more like a child than an animal, but he eyed her warily.

“Hello, Gabriel.  Did you enjoy your treat?”

He smacked his lips before nodding slowly. 

“He improves.” 

“Yes.”  Sinclair said proudly.  She turned to James, her pleasure fading.  “I thought you were watching him!”  She hissed.

“I doubt any of Angela’s ghouls would hurt him.”

Sinclair sniffed her displeasure.  “One was trying to swat him with a broom!”   

James clapped his hands together once.  “So, what’s on the agenda this evening?”

“We wait for my brothers to return; then we will see about why Enrique Arrays is here.” 

More steps sounded on the stairs.  They had a labored and shuffling quality to them that had everyone’s nerves instantly on edge.  Claude Monroe’s head came into view a moment later.  He reached the top of the stairs and regarded them as his body swayed slightly. 

“I’m too old for this shit.”

Angela reached for him.  “What happened?”  She placed a hand lightly on his swollen face, feeling pity for the man’s black eye and split lip. 

“A point was being made.”  He sighed wearily.  “Using my body as the explanation point.”

Sinclair hurried behind the counter and found a chair.  She drug it to Claude and gently forced him down to it.  He gave her an appreciative look. 

“I drove around and around just in case I was being followed.  I hope I did a good enough job.” 

“What are you talking about?”  Angela was losing her patience. 

“Joseph wanted me to come to his house.  He told me it was important, and would change everything.  He said that I would get more than what was originally promised.”

Angela pursed her lips and crossed her arms over her chest.  “Go on.”

“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.