BAD BOY ROMANCE: DIESEL: Contemporary Bad Boy Biker MC Romance (Box Set) (New Adult Sports Romance Short Stories Boxset) (34 page)

Niall watched her leave the bathroom. 
So much for the mountains
.

He stopped at the entry way leading into the sitting area.  Sinclair was leaned against the wall, her arms folded loosely.  Niall glanced at the smile on her face before following her gaze.  James had Gabriel sitting on his lap and was talking quietly to him.  He made a quarter appear from behind Gabriel’s ear.  Sinclair laughed lightly at the squeal and hoot that came from the child’s lips.  James looked up and leaned back in the chair, situating Gabriel on his lap so he could lean into his chest.  Gabriel looked at the quarter, moving it between his fingers, trying to mimic a trick James had obviously already shown him.

“It’s a sin what has been done to this child.”

Sinclair’s smile faded.  “I know.”

James’s eyes were hard and flinty.  “Joseph Overman will pay with his own blood.  He will pay with his own sanity.” 

While Niall sat uneasily eating pancakes with Sinclair and James, watching Gabriel try to paint his cheeks with syrup, Joseph Overman waited anxiously for a leer jet to land at a private runway just north of Bayou Beouf.  He had plans, grand plans, but they had to be executed with a surgeon’s precision.  There was no room for error. 

He looked back at the car where Latasha stood, her rear end planted on the hood.  Her dark eyes were round and he could read the fear across the distance.  She didn’t want to get too close. 

Joseph turned back to the empty runway, a grisly cold smile on his lips.  Latasha had proven useful, but her usefulness was quickly evaporating.  Her superstitions and lack of vision was becoming a hindrance.  He would soon have to make the necessary decision as to how far he would allow her to continue on this journey.  He thought of Sinclair again, the urge to kick himself making his shoulders and neck tighten.  Sinclair had been as obedient as a pet dog, and he had taken advantage of it.  He hadn’t paid attention.  There had to have been signs, if Claude’s theory was correct.  Had he known…?

The distant drone of aircraft brought him out of his revelry.  He shaded his eyes and watched the sky, unsure of what direction to look in.  A flash of silver came out of the east as the sound came closer.  Joseph didn’t know if he wanted to vomit or jump for joy.  This was pivotal in making his plans reality and not just dreams.  Why he hadn’t thought of this in Palm Beach was beyond him, but then again he didn’t have the same knowledge there that he had here.  The rest of the needed knowledge was making a smooth and rapid descent from the sky. 

Joseph began walking towards the dirt airstrip as the plane touched down and decelerated to the end of the runway before turning around.  It was an airstrip that was out of the control of the FAA.  Planes flew in and out under radar bringing in or carrying out drugs of all kinds, weapons, and occasionally people; some willing passengers, but most were not. 

The door opened and a set of stairs descended.  The first person Joseph saw was Enrique’s stone fast behemoth man servant.  He scanned the surroundings before pinning Joseph with rueful glare.  The smile that followed almost sent Joseph sprinting for the car.  The next man was foreign to Joseph.  His white blonde hair shone in the sunlight and his much shorter frame was a stark contrast to the man coming down the steps ahead of him. 

Joseph squinted at the cockpit windows and swallowed convulsively as Enrique himself vanished from the spot only to reappear a moment later at the top of the stairs.  His v neck light weight shirt was the color of dried blood and his jeans were snug.  Joseph had never seen Enrique in anything but suits.  Sometimes he wore ties sometimes not, but he was always in a suit of some kind.  Either the casual wear meant he would try to enjoy himself while he was there, or he would get down to business; dirty business.  Joseph imagined the latter.

Joseph nodded to the man waiting several yards from himself.  He nodded back and approached Enrique.  They spoke briefly before the man went to the plane to ready it for storage. 

Enrique walked towards Joseph, the top point in a strange moving human triangle as the three men walked towards him.  Joseph planted his feet firmly, silently refusing to back up a step. 

“You have the largest set of kahunas I have ever seen.”  Enrique smiled blandly.  “Besides myself of course.”

“Thank you for coming.”

Enrique’s grin was only a split of lips showing teeth, it meant nothing, and Joseph felt a chill just looking at it. 

“Know that I will kill you if you don’t deliver on everything promised.” 

Joseph nodded.  “It won’t be a problem.” 

Enrique nodded, the maniacal grin still on his face.  “Fine.  Now, please, introduce me to your Nubian Queen.”

Joseph didn’t care for the way Enrique looked at Latasha as they approached.  She straightened from the car hood, taking in Enrique’s Latin good looks with interest.  He was a head turner as Joseph’s grandmother would have said; not too tall with a perfect weight for his build, light brown eyes, and wavy dark hair.  What woman wouldn’t look?  Joseph definitely didn’t like the way Latasha held her slim hand out as she sucked in one side of her thick bottom lip, her eyes bright with…was that lust?  It was of no matter.  This could be the final job Latasha was good for.  A man over run with sexual tensions was a man that was easily distracted.  Joseph tucked that bit of information away for later.  Everything in his mind was filed in two broad categories: what was useful to him and what was not.

“Latasha, this is Enrique Arrays.  Enrique this is Latasha.” 

Latasha shot Joseph a dark look.  He presumed she expected to be introduced as his girlfriend.  When he didn’t correct himself, she tossed her braids and turned on the charm for Enrique. 

Perfect
.

Angela’s opinion at what she was staring at was a motley crew.  Sinclair had her hair pulled up in an up do, pieces of curly hair reached for her temples and the back of her head.  The scarf she had tied around the hair was an emerald green, which made her eyes brighter than normal.  Her makeup was on thick, as usual, and her outfit was something more fitting for a stroll on the beach: white tennis shoes, white t shirt, and khaki capris.  Simple.  She was like the rose nestled between two thorns.  Niall sat glumly staring at the floor and James on her other side was looking at everything in her office was obvious interest and fascination.  Then there was Gabriel.  He sat quietly on Sinclair’s lap chewing on his fingers. 

Angela sighed and pressed her finger tips together over the desk.  “Tell me why you think I lied.”

James stopped perusing the ceiling and levelled his stare. 

“Because you did, Angela.  “You told us when we first came here that you had never seen Joseph before.  Then we found out he
had
been here.  Now we find out you actually
know
him.”  Niall countered.                  

Angela lifted one finger.  “I don’t actually know him.  I’ve met him a couple of times, but I don’t
know
him.  He’s not like a friend or acquaintance.” 

“But you’re
acquainted
with what he’s trying to do, right?”

Angela sighed.  “There have been knock offs of that stone over the years.  There have been people who try to do a variety of things with it, but I had no idea until recently that he had the real thing.” 

Sinclair pursed her lips.  “When was that?  When did you realize it?”

Angela leaned back in her chair.  “About the time you and Niall arrived.  Claude told me…”

James barked a laugh, throwing his head back and bringing it back forward.  “Claude Monroe?  He’s an idiot!”  James lifted his hands and made a dismissive gesture.

“Idiot!”  Gabriel yelled and grinned at James.

“That’s right, little buddy.” 

“Look,” Niall began.  “It’s a change stone.  You act like it’s the only one of its kind.”

“It
is
the only one of its kind.”  Angela blew out an impatient breath.  “Change stones are things of myth and rumor, are they not?”  She looked to Niall and James.  “Niall, you knew what one was, but had you ever actually
seen
one?”  Niall shook his head and she continued.  “That’s because there
is only one
.” 

“I don’t get it.”  Niall shook his head.

Angela looked at all of them in turn.  They were beginning to have the look of war weary soldiers on the battlefield, and unfortunately this battle was just beginning.  Sinclair at least was returning her stare with a curious kind of scrutiny.  Even the child waited in rapt silence.  The telling of this story had to be delicate.

“There was once a very powerful witch…”

“Sounds like you tell a bed time story, no?  That’s cute.” 

“Shut up!”  Sinclair hissed, her face turned sharply to James. 

Angela twisted her mouth in wiry humor.  She would enjoy dispatching either one of these shifters, but for now they were necessary. 

“May I continue?” 

James tilted his head downward, his eyes full of mischief. 

“As I was saying, there was once a very powerful witch.  This witch had a dream of uniting all the beings of the paranormal world.  She didn’t want there to be dissention amongst the shifters and the undead, or the witches and the Fae.”  Angela smiled sardonically, a light lift to her chin.  “She even wanted the Nephilim to be accepted.” 

Sinclair looked around, her eyes large with confusion.  “Nephilim?  What’s that?”

“It’s a person who is half human and half fallen angel.”

Angela watched Sinclair toy with Gabriel’s collar.  He lifted his shoulders in irritation, and made a snapping gesture, his tiny mouth biting down on air.  She would give Sinclair a moment to absorb what she had said. 

“But…fallen angels are…demons.”

“Some do call them that.” 

Niall lowered his head and looked at Sinclair from the corner of his eye.  Her mouth worked in tiny jerks, but no sound came out.  What Angela had told her was one of the hardest things for a person to wrap their minds around; sometimes even for a paranormal.  He reached out and took her hand from Gabriel’s collar, squeezing it lightly.  Sinclair looked at him and squeezed back. 

Angela resumed her story.  “She had an idea that she could place power within a stone to allow a paranormal to take on characteristics of another paranormal.  She felt that if a tiny bit of power from each kind could be placed within it, then there would be order and harmony.  It would be like every paranormal had a piece of all the others in the paranormal world.  She hoped it would create unity.”

“But that’s impossible!”  James said.  “There’s too many!  How could each one be touched with the stone?” 

“Yes.”  Angela agreed.  “Her dream was to start in her immediate area, then create more stones that could be used by others all over the world.”

“Sounds to me like the new world order the humans talk about sometimes.”

“A new order for the paranormal world.  That was her vision.”  Angela shrugged lightly.  “Her motives were pure to begin with, but motive is often the first thing to be tainted by greed.”  She stood and began a short circuit of the small room which ended by a window that over looked the street.  She moved the sheer curtains aside and spoke again. 

“Some of the paranormals were anxious to have the transformation.  They believed in her vision.  It was a hit or miss thing.  Sometimes the stone
seemed
to have worked, but more often than not it didn’t.  In reality, at the time, it didn’t work at all.   She grew desperate and called on a…darker source.  She studied for over six years honing her skills at dark magic.”  Angela turned from the window.  “She even studied Necromancy just in case.” 

“Necromancy?  What’s that?”  Sinclair whispered.  The sound of the word was familiar and lent a grotesque air from the breath that spoke it.

“I’ll tell you later.”  Niall said and squeezed her hand again. 

“The paranormals decided that she was full of it and really couldn’t do what she proposed.”  Angela shook her head and came back to sit at her desk.  “The witch became desperate and decided life’s blood was what she needed for the stone.”  Angela’s eyes became hard.  “She invited the leaders of each paranormal group in her city to demonstrate her break through.  The Nephilim didn’t attend.  They are too few and far between anyway, and the Fae were too smart for that, but those who did come were a wolf, vampire, and another witch.  Once they were all gathered she told them that a prick of skin was all that was needed.  They willingly gave of their blood.  The witch knew immediately that it had worked.  She could feel the mingled power in it as she lifted the stone, still wet from their blood.  As she looked into the anxious faces of her guests, she foresaw the future and saw the lengths that people would go to, not only to have the stone, but to be
changed
by it.  An instant of paranoia took her and she slaughtered her guests with the very blade that had pricked their fingers.” 

“Whoa!”  James called out.  “A witch took out a shifter, one of her own,
and
an undead?”

“Yes.”

“That must have been one bad bitch!”