“You okay, Pop. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Aye, the ghost of things to come.”
In reference to Ebenezer Scrooge escapades in The Christmas Carol, Azrian rolled his eyes. “Cool costume.” He stood when Ariane stepped off the last stair and cleared her throat. “Wow, Aunt—Mistress Colton. Fab gown. Cool crown. A renaissance queen extraordinaire.”
My grunt interrupted Azrian before he blew our cover, which he had already blown a couple of times. “Let’s get this night over with. Put it to bed.” I opened the door for Ariane. “After you, my queen.”
When Deadpool and Queen Ariane stepped outside, a quick once-over of the great room revealed no sign of Sabree. Ten to one, he planned to meet us there as he had done numerous times before. The door closed behind me. The next time we entered the mansion, our world would be different. A lot less chaotic. Or worse.
We arrived fifteen minutes earlier than most of the guests. I opened the trunk to hand Azrian his mask and cape and Ariane her veiled crown. Underneath, a black cape lined with a faux-fur collar raised my alarm. Whose costume is this? Sabree came to mind, but all I could recall was the corny musketeer outfit. Once or twice he had dressed up as Achilles.
Catching up, I chuckled when Ariane ignored the usher, swishing by him to grab the table nearest the dance floor and buffet. Azrian followed her and pulled out a seat. Quite the gentleman, my son. Unlike before, our table was centrally located amongst the partygoers, not hidden against the wall in back. Still loitering at the entrance, I waved to let them know I’d be there shortly.
The decor exactly the same, for all thirty-three balls, knocked me into another déjà vu. A double whammy hit me next. Trouble approached from the left. A short, stout man wobbling like a penguin, headed in my direction. The lavender tux, too tight around the middle, gave weight to his bird-like roundness. The purple wig he wore hugged his scalp like a damp mop.
“Mr. Colton, so good of you to come,” Chambers said.
No wonder I failed to recognize him first off. No purple wig last time. Which event made him switch his costume from Liberace to human penguin? A comeback finally came to mind. “Wouldn’t miss this for the world.” I grabbed his upper arm and led him to the bar. With no other guests to wait on, the bartender greeted us right away. “Two margaritas, please.”
Chambers shook a hand at the server. “None for me.”
After gesturing the bartender to disregard Chamber’s refusal, I cocked my head his way. “The second drink is for Ariane.”
Chambers let loose a nervous chuckle. “I just presumed.” As though not to miss a beat, his self-assured leer returned. “Get to the point, Colton. I have guests to greet.”
The pompous ass didn’t have to ask twice. “Tell Wayde to lay off. If he so much as touches a hair on Ariane, Azumi Tsukino, or her friends, I will personally shut him down along with the Guardians.”
The face Chambers made, his cheeks and lips puckering as if he ate a lemon revealed aghast disbelief. Probably wondered how I knew about Wayde’s secret organization, never mind what they had planned for Azumi and me. His head shook, whipping the purple wig off center. “Guardians? Never heard of them.”
“Let him know he will have the journal by the end of the week. All nine drives.”
Both brows climbed under the purple wig. Chubby fingers tugged on it to straighten its hairline. “Tell him yourself. Look for the man behind a monster mask.”
“Plan to do just that. But first, I wanted to make sure you and Wayde realize I mean business. Feel free to take my message as a threat.”
A distant memory fluttered in my mind: Ariane had drained Chambers of his blood. But so did I one time or another. Guess it depended on the course of events we took during those thirty-three trial runs. Happy dance time. Neither of us would subject ourselves to drinking the foul blood on this do-over. Perhaps, if his title of doctor meant anything, the man might put intelligence to good use and disappear like Eric.
“I see,” Chambers said, pausing before he answered. “I will do my best to comply, but I cannot promise Wayde will do the same.”
“I’ll worry about Wayde. And forget about Sabree, I mean, Zanyael. He’s a Caderen spy not DanJal.” The man’s flustered expression made my night.
Chambers pulled on the tight waistcoat. “Take heed. Whoever revealed our scheme will be your undoing as well.”
That whoever was yours truly. But Chambers would never believe it. “Whatever.” I grew bored of the conversation, eager to sit with family. I left with the drinks in hand and headed for our table.
The margaritas almost slipped from my grasp when I walked by Azumi’s table. That damned devil costume caught my breath. Besides the memory rush of the night I lost my double virginity, making love and drinking blood, a barrage of emotions hit me at once. Admiration, love, fear, and yearning took top billing. In its wake, the sting of tears burned my eyes. I longed to hold her in my arms again. Kiss the sweet lips that savored of strawberries. The fantasy fell flat when reality slapped me in my love-struck face. My heart sank. Not happening this time, not ever again.
On my walk by, one of her friends asked if I was the Scottish warrior, Braveheart. The entire table giggled in answer.
“Where did you go,” Ariane asked. She pushed me toward our table.
Her rescue welcomed, I said, “Your margarita, my queen.”
“I don’t remember asking for one. But thanks.” She grabbed a glass and gave the other to my son.
Azrian’s eyes lit up, so the no way stayed in my throat. I should remain sober for the night, especially now that the Black Watchman had just waltzed in and sat next to Ariane. Shit, shit, shit. At this moment, all sense of direction vanished, the order of to-do items flushed from my cluttered mind. That dark cape was the one draped inside the trunk of the Audi. Like the French wigs, I guess Sabree couldn’t mist with such a heavy load.
A sparkling jewel caught my eye.
Sabree’s lips formed a wistful smile when he flashed an expensive bauble in his hand.
The fact that he allowed me to see the necklace twisted my gut into a tighter knot. Who did he plan to grace with such an expensive gift? Not Ariane. But then, why not? According to Jesse, the couple was destined to fall in love.
Foreseeable but still a shock, I needed a drink after all, something strong enough to clear my head. “Be right back.” Already engaged in conversation, no one asked where I was going, so I muttered to myself, “Please hurry back. We wouldn’t dream of starting the party without you.” A heavy trudge delivered me to the bar, Azumi’s shy wave ignored.
The double shot of Scotch ordered and guzzled, my peripheral vision caught sight of the monster man loitering near our table. Figures the coward waited for me to leave before he dared approach. Except for Sabree and Ariane, Deadpool was probably the only person he didn’t recognize. Or maybe he thought I was Deadpool. Refill in hand, I zigzagged through the crowd who milled about. Chambers puffed out his chest and sneered my way as he escorted a late arrival to a table full of witches and black cats. My eyeteeth bared in return.
The Scotch inhaled in one gulp, I deposited the empty glass on a tray. Then I hovered behind the monster man to catch the gist of the conversation. Sabree’s signature roasted caramel and the strong plastic odor of the mask wafted in my face. Surely Wayde must be wondering why Zanyael sat at our table. Me too. Sabree was up to no good as usual. Seeing my wink, Ariane and Azrian played along.
“What do we owe the honor?” Sabree asked the monster.
Wayde growled in return. “Whatever your real name is, Zanyael, I’ll deal with you later.” He leaned into the table toward Azrian. “Colton, rumor has it that you agreed to hand me the journal by the week’s end. Is this true?”
Behind his Deadpool mask, one side of my son’s lip was sure to rise in question. Following a nod, I whispered in his mind, “Say yes.”
“Aye, dinna worry, you’ll get it by then,” Azrian said, overexaggerating my S
cots brogue. “So, take it or leave it, lad.” He glanced my way. “Not bad, huh, Pop?”
I bit my lower lip to stop myself from laughing and placed a hand on Wayde’s shoulder and one on Sabree’s. Both twitched in reaction to my touch. Wayde spun around while Sabree shot me an evil glare. “The real Brian is right behind you,” I said to Wayde. “Deadpool’s my butler.”
“No Tricks, Colton.” Wayde pulled off his mask and scowled. “You know where my office is located. Correct?”
Guess Wayde despised being duped. Too bad because the night was still young. The week long. “Aye. The slime pit located down the hall from Duncan’s. Thought they would have tossed you in the basement by now.” The man’s rude curse made me pause before declaring the clincher. “And Wayde, your other office in the Guardian complex is located in Sweden. In back of the library, a vulgar wood-carved door marks the spot.”
“Absurd! I have no such office.” Wayde pushed away from the table. Before he huffed off, he put his mask back on and glared at me with beady eyes. “By the end of the week, Colton. Or else...”
“About the or else…” Clenched fingers squeezed the meaty part of his arm. He flinched to pull away as they dug in. “I’m taking care of an else tonight.” I released his arm and stood by as he made a beeline for the bar. “Better order a double shot. You’ll need one when I’m through with you. Aye, better make it three.”
Uncertain if my actions altered the events, satisfaction filled my bones nonetheless. In a matter of minutes, I switched from being on the defensive to seizing control as the aggressor. Wayde would be on his guard from now on. Not too shabby for our first night out.
Behind me, Sabree exhaled a heavy sigh. An open book, I leafed through his mind. The pent-up tension inside him almost boiled over, if not for the released breath reducing some of the pressure. Guess he was also grateful to see Wayde run off.
Your turn, Sabree. Harass him for a spell before introducing Azrian to his mum. I sat next to him, my twisted smile meeting pursed lips. One brow higher than the other, his baby blues revealed apprehension. Or maybe not. I had no clue. The sister I left behind to face annihilation, had the kaleidoscope of eye colors down pat, which color matched which emotion. Obnoxious or not, I always managed to rouse the angry teal. But for now, if necessary, I’d just plug into his mind to know for sure.
Roasted prime rib wafted from the buffet tables. “Has anyone eaten yet?” I asked.
“We just got here.” Ariane sipped her margarita. “I should be first in line at the buffet to soften the blow of this monstrous drink.” She took another sip, stole a glimpse of Sabree, and batted her lashes. “No mead at the bar? No Starbucks?” Ariane asked as her eyes twinkled at him and then winked at me. “Get it? Didn’t you see the Starbucks cup that found its way on the set?”
Not one to waste time, my sister had already dug her claws into his neck, flirting with the blond Black Watchman. Between the long black fur-collared cape and leather outfit I figured it had to be one of the characters on Game of Thrones. At the last Halloween ball, Sabree dressed as a lighthearted musketeer. Along with Chambers, what changed Sabree’s mind? Losing control? Maybe he felt more secure dressed in the darkly foreboding costume. For certain, he fit the role. Deep down, although he portrayed himself as coldhearted, Sabree was really a kindhearted softy.
Harassment phase in gear, I nudged his arm. “Nice to see you decided to sit at the head table, Jon Snow wannabe. We’re a bit overdressed compared to the rest of the guests.”
Sabree stared at the bubbling green slime in the witch’s caldron and rolled his neck as if I had pinched a nerve. Then slowly and on purpose, his gaze shifted to me. “You are not the same man. The Brian I haunted in Arizona was a frivolous fool who freaked out at the slightest boo.” Sabree patted my sister’s hand. “Ariane Rose is the same, so what have you done to the real Brian?”
“I agree.” Ariane leaned into the conversation. “You don’t act like my brother. Not at all.”
Azrian tugged on his mask. “Well, Pop, now what?” His imagined eyeroll flashed through my mind.
Backfired. The harassment meant for Sabree, bit me in the ass instead. Increasing in crescendo, my fingers drummed the tabletop. Phase two suddenly took precedence. The table nearest us, brimmed with activity. Besides saving Azumi and her friends, I had vowed to arrange, at the very least, a dance with Azrian and his mum—a shared moment between them. Then I could step in for a moment, a reminder. After that, who cared when or how I explained this crap to Ariane and Sabree. Just get it over with to save my sanity.
My narrowed gaze lingered on the couple who waited for my answer. “Meet me tomorrow morning for breakfast. I will explain then and only then.” My chair, leaning on the back legs, scooted away from the accusing stares. I snapped my fingers for Azrian to follow.
“Can I meet her now?”
“That’s the plan and I don’t care what the rest do to entertain themselves.” Azumi almost rose when we approached the table. Her friends buzzed with excitement. I introduced myself first. “Azumi, my name is Brian Colton.”
My unexpected directness caught her off guard. Her frown revealed doubt. Wayde must’ve warned her that she would have to seduce me. In fact, the first time around she charged me full barrel—silly clueless me. “Pardon my directness, but I know all about your arrangement with Morgan Wayde.” Her friends glanced at each other mumbling their concerns.
“No idea what you’re talking about.” Her gaze darted between the two of us until they hovered on my son. “Why don’t we go on the veranda to discuss it?”
“I have a better idea. This is Azrian Colton, my younger brother. The poor lad was smitten the moment he laid eyes on you.” I turned to Azrian and pushed him forward. “Take off your mask and ask the lady for a dance.” The hesitance in her smile and Azrian’s approach warmed me inside. Sure, Wayde paid her handsomely to seduce me and no one else. Her future as a celloist depended on it.
Azumi took Azrian’s hand in hers. “I’d love a dance. Funny how both our names start with Az.”
My son glanced at me for a go-ahead, so in answer, I goaded them toward the dance floor and sat down with her friends to explain the dire situation. They had better listen or suffer the consequences.
13
Heart and Soul
U ncertain what to do, Azrian stood on the dance floor with his mum waiting for the song to begin. A slow waltz opened the night, so just as Zoeree had taught him, he bowed and took hold of her hand and wrapped an arm around her waist, making sure they stood a foot apart. He whisked his mother around the dance floor. To his surprise, Ariane and Sabree were dancing with each other. He smiled at his aunt when she almost swiped his shoulder.
“You waltz like a pro,” Azumi said. “Does your brother dance as well? He seemed to brush me off.”
“Yes, he’s been around a few years longer. I’ve seen him in action. Puts me to shame.”
“Can’t imagine that.”
Every time she tried to move closer, Azrian pulled back. This was his mother not a date. “I hear you play the cello.”
“My friends have loose lips.”
Azrian glanced around until he caught sight of his father still sitting at her friends’ table, his keen gaze affixed on Sabree and Ariane. “I don’t blame them for bragging about your talents. Nothing to be ashamed of.”
“My parents condemn my love of music. They’d rather I be a scientist.” Dark lashes obscured her eyes as she gazed longingly at Brian. Then she looked up at Azrian. Studied his face. “You are part Asian. I see it in your features.”
A quick lie came to him. “Brian and I have different mums. Mine came from Japan, his from Scotland.”
“Where in Japan?”
His Google searches had all failed. Azrian cursed himself for not asking his father where in Japan she had lived. “Where are you from?”
“Nagoya.”
His ploy worked. Hopefully she wouldn’t suspect him of copying her. “Really?
My mother was born in Nagoya. Haven’t been to Japan never mind Nagoya.”
“Lovely city.” Azumi studied his face. “You have unique colored eyes…dark amber like the stone. You’re shorter than your brother.”
Why was she picking over his looks? Comparing him to his father? His thin physique gave him a lankier presence as a tall mini version of his father. “My father claimed I inherited that from my mum.”
He never dared to hope he’d get to spend this much time with her. She was so petite and light on her feet. Graceful. Her perfume, the light scent of lotus blossoms tickled his nose. He made sure to forever implant the brief time they shared together.
The special moment faded as a distinct awkwardness crept between them. Azrian glanced at the table, wondering when his father would call it quits? Unwilling to end the dance so soon, his struggle with what to say next, never expecting shyness to come into play, diminished their time together. He blew out a sigh when she stopped dancing and pointed at Brian.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but do you mind if I dance with your brother? You’re great and all…I just wanted to ask him about his costume.”
His mum wanted to earn her keep, so Azrian glanced at the bar and frowned. His father had left the table to wait for him there. Shoulders slumped, in a way, he was grateful she wanted to be with his father instead. She was his mother after all. Wayde had paid her handsomely to flirt with Brian. Her desire to be a celloist so strong, she’d sell herself to the devil, to that piece of garbage. Azrian stole a kiss off the top of her forehead and apologized right away. “Sorry. I hope you get your wish.” Azrian’s eyes burned with the onset of tears as he marched toward the bar.
“Pop, your turn. She wants a dance and then some.” Azrian winked so his father caught his drift. “Thanks for letting me have a moment with my mum.”
Brian squeezed his shoulder. “She’s a precious soul. It’s the least I could do for you. And for her.” His gaze glistened as he scanned the dance floor. “I’ll take Azumi out on the veranda to explain the situation. We have to move fast, so make sure you escort her friends to the limo. I already filled them in. Your mum and I will meet you there. Watch out for Wayde and Chambers.” Brian chuckled. “Ariane’s keeping Sabree busy.”
Archangel of the Fallen Page 8
