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Authors: Lisa Carlisle

BOOK: BloodlustandMetal
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“I despise you, Devon! I feel more hate toward you than I’ve
ever felt for another person, even Stefano. And if I get the chance, I’m going
to rip you into tiny little pieces and suck every last drop of blood out of
your dead fucking corpse.”

Her burning eyes took on a reddish hint as she glowered at
me. I returned it with a cold glint and smiled. “Then I guess we’ll use the
handcuffs.”

Chapter Six

 

Joey

The hours passed and Angelica hadn’t returned my calls.
Where the fuck was she?

I’d called her again, even went by her apartment. She lived
in a crappy high-rise apartment over a pizza place on Commonwealth Avenue. Mike
and I lived in a three-family not too far away, but I didn’t dare tell him how
I was looking for her. He’d tell me I was stalking her and I’d better back off
before she got pissed and quit the band.

When Angelica didn’t answer her door, I drove down to the
Boston Police Department’s Allston-Brighton branch on Washington Street and
parked on the main road. What would I even say to them? It hadn’t been
twenty-four hours so they’d most likely tell me not enough time had passed. And
if she found out I’d filed a missing person report, I pictured her flipping
out.

Putting half a dozen quarters in the parking meter, I walked
down Washington Street, trying to figure out what to do.

A private investigator maybe?

Yes, I felt foolish and perhaps I was overreacting, but I
couldn’t just sit around waiting for Angelica to call me. If she was even able
to call. Something about the whole situation left me uncomfortable and I
worried about her. If I hadn’t seen that guy in the club drive off alone, I
would have thought he was involved.

I used my smartphone to locate a local private investigator.
After I explained the situation, he said he’d meet me at a coffee shop on
Washington Street in half an hour.

As I walked down to the coffee shop, my thoughts were
consumed with Angelica. I first saw her at a show in Boston. A local hardcore
band who were big in the nineties played a reunion show. Most of the crowd
consisted of guys in their thirties and forties who remembered the band back
when they first toured. Then there was the younger crowd who were too young at
the time to know who the band was, but were interested in seeing what they
considered a Boston rock ’n ‘ roll “classic”.

In walked a petite woman wearing a black dress and high
black boots as if trying to deceive people to think she was much taller. She
stayed in the back of the club as if avoiding attention. Her hair was a natural
chestnut color back then with her makeup very subdued, if she wore any at all.

Although she stayed in the shadows and away from the
spotlights at the front of the stage, I noticed her right away. I walked away
from the guys to approach her.

“Hi. Can I get you a drink?” I asked.

Her eyes darted around the room as her body tensed, but then
she relaxed and flashed a warm smile. “Sure. Thanks.”

“I’m Joey.”

“Angelica.”

As we spoke over a beer, I told her about Bloodlust Diamond.
Most girls who came to these clubs were into guys who were in a band. Angelica
wasn’t as impressed as I thought she’d be. Instead she focused on the part
where I told her we needed a new lead singer. Although the idea of female lead
singer threw me off at first, she convinced me to let her audition for the
role.

I left with her number that night, only not for the reason I
had been hoping for.

The guys were skeptical at first, but during the audition we
all saw something. Angelica and I had chemistry. Something we could play up
onstage. It was a different vibe from having all guys in the band, but we all
thought there was something there we had to try out. When I asked Angelica to
join Bloodlust Diamond, she was thrilled.

“Only one thing though,” she said. “I’m a very private
person. Please don’t ask me many personal questions.”

This would raise a red flag for anyone and I was no
different.

“O-kay,” I said. “You do realize that when you’re in a band,
you’re stuck together for long periods at a time. There’s practice and
rehearsals and working together to come up with songs. Then there are the shows
themselves. Most of the time, they’re local, but some are out of town and we
may spend the night in a motel. So maybe you should think about what this gig
actually means before you agree to it.”

“That’s fine, I get that,” she said. “I just don’t like
people asking me too many questions about my past. I don’t like living in the
past. I want to live in the here and now.”

Another flag came up and my mind went wild imagining what
she was trying to hide. Did she escape prison? Was she on the run from an
abusive lover?

I was willing to overlook her obsessive need for privacy to
bring her into the band. When I warned the guys, they scoffed. “What is she,
some freak?” Mark asked.

“Look who’s talking.”

“Whatever,” Rocco said. “Like I care where she came from. I
have enough girls I have to pretend to be interested in. All I want to know is
if she can sing in front of an audience.”

It turned out she could. And since then, Angelica had been
part of our band, becoming a bigger part of my life as well. She kept her
distance from the other guys and they gave her a wide berth most of the time,
unless we were stuck together on a long drive. The two of us had developed a
sort of friendship.

As much as she wanted to keep her past a secret, I knew she
was afraid of someone or something. The skittish way she often reacted,
especially if taken off guard, was one I caught on to very quickly. The mystery
of who she was and what she was hiding from bothered me. Combined with my
feelings for her, I knew I had a tendency to be overprotective when it came to
her. A trait she didn’t appreciate.

Late at night, I wondered if our chemistry onstage and our
slowly blooming friendship offstage could lead to something else one day. But I
didn’t want to come on to her and scare her off. She had enough guys hitting on
her every time she played and I’m sure she wouldn’t want her bandmates to jump
on that wagon.

So I was too much of a chickenshit to let her know how I
felt. And if something had happened to her without me ever telling her—well, I
didn’t want to go there.

One regret that had been building up inside of me since she
went missing last night was never asking her what she was afraid of. Was she
hiding from someone? I would have offered to help her.

Now I was afraid that whatever was haunting Angelica from
her past had caught up with her. And it might be too late for me to help her.

 

When the PI arrived, he ordered a black coffee and a muffin
and then sat across from me.

“Jack Westcott,” he said, shaking my hand. He sported a
graying mustache and an obvious toupee and wore jeans and a navy-blue T-shirt
covered by a Red Sox jacket.

“Tell me about the situation,” he said and took a sip of his
coffee. My coffee had long since gone cold. The knot in my stomach turned me
off coffee at the moment.

I told him what I knew about Angelica Blackwell, which
wasn’t much, while he ate his muffin. Then I described how I last saw her at
the club; she’d left with a guy and said she’d be right back, but then never
returned. When I asked the bouncer if she came back, he said he hadn’t seen
her.

“I know it’s been less than twenty-four hours and I might
sound like I’m overreacting, but I think something is up. I just don’t know
what it is.”

“What happened with the guy she left with?”

“I saw him driving away from the club a short time later,
but she wasn’t with him.”

“Are you sure of this?” he asked, leaning in.

“Well, yeah,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “I saw him
drive away. She wasn’t in the car.”

“You mean she wasn’t visible to you. One thing I know about
this business is never to dismiss something unless it’s a concrete no.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying this guy is the last person we know to have seen
her, after the bouncer and you. So we find this guy and ask him what he knows.”

“I have no idea who he is.”

“Then we ask around the club. Somebody has to know him.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. I didn’t see him with anyone
else.”

“I can talk to the bouncer while I’m there too. How do we
know he isn’t lying?”

“Why would a bouncer lie about something like that?”

“People lie for all kinds of crazy reasons. Or she returned
and he just didn’t see her. People come and go in clubs all night long. It’s
hard to remember all the faces.”

“But then why wouldn’t Angelica answer my calls?” My voice
lilted at the end and I made a conscious effort to keep it level before I
continued. “Why wouldn’t she call me back when I said I was worried?”

A part of me knew it might be because I was pushing her too
hard. That she had enough of my protective streak always looking over her. This
Westcott guy picked up on this right away.

“Was your relationship strained in any way?”

“Why do you ask that?”

“Because when people go missing there are usually two
reasons. Either they’re in trouble. Or they’ve disappeared of their own free
will for some personal reason. Do you think either one of those are more likely
here?”

I could debate this in my head all day long with arguments
for each. “I think it could be either one.”

 

Westcott said he’d go by the club Vamps when it opened up
again for the evening. I paid him for two days work and hoped I wasn’t wasting
money.

 

Layla

I didn’t say a word to Devon on the way to Stefano’s place.
Devon used the silver handcuffs just as he promised, only at least he had the
decency to let me sit up in the backseat of the car this time.

The windows were tinted. And the car door had childproof
locks. I checked. Oh, he was so thorough it just made me sick!

As the lively bustle of London gave way to the rolling
fields outside of the city, my anxiety heightened. We were getting closer.
Several minutes passed before I recognized the turn that led to Stefano’s
place.

He lived in an old Tudor outside of London. Close enough to
get into the city, but enough of a distance to have more privacy. The Tudor
stood formidably against the night sky. I always thought it held a majestic,
Gothic appeal, but now it only appeared dangerous and foreboding. Shivers of
terror shot into me, which I forced away, putting on a brave face. If I was to
meet my eternal end tonight, I’d meet it with dignity.

Neither Stefano nor Devon would have the satisfaction of
seeing me beg for my life.

 

“Ready, sweetheart?” Devon asked.

I answered his question with a glare, fully aware that my
anger probably turned my eyes.

“I’ll take that as an ‘I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,
Devon!’” he added.

“What you’re doing is horrible enough. You don’t have to be
an asshole about it.”

“You’re right,” he said. “But at least I got you to talk to
me. It’s been quite the long drive with your hateful gaze boring into the back
of my skull.”

“And how would you know that with your eyes faced front?”

“I’ve had to keep an eye on you the whole time, my feisty
little minx. The rearview mirror isn’t enough. I have a camera on you that I
can watch up here.”

I looked over the front of the seat, but couldn’t climb high
enough to see his device. “Wouldn’t you make a splendid James Bond?” I added
with contempt.

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind the next time they’re
casting for a new one.” He looked into the rearview mirror as if sizing up his
appearance. “You’re right, I would be perfect for the role.”

“I never thought I’d say this,” I said. “But I’m looking forward
to going to Stefano. Because that means I no longer have to spend any time with
you!”

“Aww, sunshine. Why do you say such cutting words? That’s
okay, your body spoke volumes earlier as to how you truly felt.”

Scowling, I said, “Let’s get on with this.”

 

Devon

We met Stefano’s bodyguards Lee and Garrett at the front
entrance. They sized me up when I walked into the foyer area and I returned the
favor.

Garrett nodded at me and then said, “Layla. Is that you? I
almost didn’t recognize you with the new hair.”

“It’s me, Garrett.”

“Good to see you. Although I wish it was in better
circumstances.”

“Thanks,” Layla said. “Me too.”

“I hope it goes well for you,” Lee said.

“How has he been? Any clue as to what he’s going to do with
me?”

Lee shook his head. “Sorry. He only mentioned that the
bounty hunter had found you and that he’d be returning you tonight.”

“Good luck, Layla,” Garrett said.

“Thanks.”

Lee picked up his phone and called Stefano. “They’re here.”
A few seconds later, he hung up the phone and said, “Go on in. He’s expecting
you.”

“I bet he is,” Layla muttered under her breath.

“Straight down the hall. Second room on the right.”

We walked down the dark hallway, filled with dusty antiques
cluttering up the way. She held her chin up. I knew she was steeling herself
for what lay ahead and I took a few quick steps to catch up with her. Despite
the tough front, I saw the worry on her face when I looked over at her. Seeing
how small she looked in this giant Tudor, how vulnerable she appeared no matter
what her strength, gave me a jolt of guilt for bringing her here.

I knocked on the heavy oak door.

“Enter,” Stefano said.

Did he have to sound like a vampire from a different time?
Couldn’t he just say
come in
?

“I got her,” I said, pulling her into the room. The looks
they exchanged clearly indicated they were not long-lost friends reuniting.

“Layla,” Stefano said when we entered the open room off the
hall. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

I looked around, surveying the room. What the heck was it? A
great room? A sitting room? Certainly not one you’d find in either my London
flat or my country home. There was no furniture, just a tapestry on one wall,
old weapons displayed on another and objets d’art on the rest. Whatever you’d
call a nonfunctional room like this, it reeked of money.

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