Unleashed by Shadows (By Moonlight Book 10)

by Nancy Gideon

  Cale and Silas exchanged quick glances.

  “What does that mean exactly?” Silas asked, but Cale was very afraid this was about his little drama in the ring the night before.

  Lee smiled without amusement. “Oh, I think you know, exactly.”

  “You’re the one who told me to dazzle the crowd.”

  That icy stare fixed on Cale. “To engage them, yes. To break the rules of the game, no. To endanger the illusion that it’s all an illusion, no. I had hoped things would work out, but I’m afraid I’d just be wasting my time and money to continue with this relationship. You’re a wild card, Mr. Terry. There’s no place for you in my plans. Good day.”

  Cale blinked, looking to Silas to rescue the situation. He was quick to intercede with a careful not to sound too anxious argument.

  “Last night was an unfortunate miscalculation,” he agreed, glaring at his fighter. “It won’t happen again.”

  “No. It won’t. Not with me.”

  Cale intuited what MacCreedy didn’t express aloud.

  Shit. Shit shit shit!

  “He’s impulsive,” Silas continued doggedly. “He’s hard to control. Sometimes, he’s a showboating idiot.” A sudden, hard slap to the side of his head had Cale rearing back. “But he’s a damn fine fighter. With you to smooth his rough edges, he could be one of the best. The crowd loves him. He’ll toe the line from here on. I guarantee it.”

  Lee sighed. “What he may or may not be is no longer of any interest to me. I was very clear on what I expected from the both of you. I won’t change my mind. I don’t have time for bad investments. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to order.” He put up a manicured hand to wave over his waiter.

  Silas gripped Cale’s arm, jerking him off the tall stool, shoving him outside into the harsh sunlight. Cale pulled up to look back inside, where Lee smiled up at the young man taking his meal order. Desperate thoughts scrambled.

  “That went well,” Silas began, but Cale cut him off.

  “Stay here.”

  MacCreedy scowled at him. “Let it go, Cale. We gambled. We lost.”

  “Not yet.”

  Lee ignored his presence while completing his instructions for the care and treatment of his Kobe beef. Finally, when the young man left the table, taking the menu and Lee’s appreciative stare with him until he disappeared into the kitchen, the pale eyes turned to Cale in thinly veiled irritation.

  “Don’t sit down. This conversation is over, Mr. Terry.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear enough. I’m not interested in anything you have to say, or in you.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  An assessing stare stroked from head to toe before he proclaimed with bored indifference, “Pretty, nicely muscled, sweaty men are a cash crop here in New Orleans, Mr. Terry. There’s nothing special about you.”

  Cale allowed a faint smile. “Now who’s not being honest?”

  Lee’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll admit to finding you vaguely entertaining and,” another quick once over, “distracting, but I don’t care to have my authority challenged.”

  Cale’s smile widened, showing teeth. “Yes, you do. Very little challenges you. That’s why you like me.”

  Lee turned back to his wine glass. “You flatter yourself.”

  “Not without cause, and we both know it.”

  “That may have been true at first, but titillating bad behavior and foolish rebellion in full view of my constituents are not the same thing. I don’t do high maintenance. Go away, Mr. Terry. You have nothing I want.”

  “That’s not true.” He took a risk and grabbed Lee’s forearm just as he was lifting the glass to his lips. “Let me prove it to you.”

  A frigid stare focused on that hand until Cale removed it. Casper leisurely sipped, savored his mouthful in an almost sexual manner then swallowed before meeting Cale’s steady gaze. “How do you plan to do that?”

  “By showing you what I can really do for you.”

  Lee studied him for a long moment before asking, “How?”

  Cale took a seat to begin his persuasive argument. He couldn’t mistake the way Casper’s nostrils flared as he leaned in close. Or the insinuating tip of his tongue sweeping the moist vintage from his lower lip. “Let me be what you know I can become. We’re wasting our time in the penny ante league. Put me in the big show.”

  “Have you been bored, Mr. Terry?” The smooth drawl gave nothing away. “Is that the problem? Not enough to keep you amused?”

  “Not enough to keep me fed,” he burst out. “I can’t afford to risk everything and bring in nothing.”

  “Expensive habits?” His narrowed gaze jumped to the tall Shifter standing on the sidewalk, his indifference slipping. “Is Creed one of them?” When Cale didn’t answer, Casper frowned, continuing in a testy tone. “Why would I choose to give you my attention when there are many more deserving? Who will do what I ask without question and in a much more obliging manner?”

  “You need me.”

  Lee said nothing.

  “I need you!” he burst out with a raw sincerity. “I owe him.” His head jerked toward MacCreedy. “Until I can clear my debts, I’ll never be free. I’ll never be my own man. I need what you can give me.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “My life back.” Words choked up on the degree of truth they held. All the bluster and bravado fell away. “I need this job. I need this chance. I’ll do anything you say. What can I do? How can I make it right? Tell me. Please.”

  Voice whisper soft, Casper mused, “Honesty at last. A good start.”

  *

  Cale blew by Silas on the sidewalk without a glance or a word. He’d gotten the length of the block before a restraining hand caught his elbow.

  “Hey? Hey!”

  Cale allowed himself to be wrestled to a stop, but he refused to acknowledge MacCreedy with a glance.

  “What happened?”

  “We’re in.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.” He pulled free and began to walk briskly, ignoring Silas when he fell in step.

  “What did you have to promise him?”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “I don’t know. Depends on what it is.”

  “Nothing you’re on the hook for. I blew it. I took care of it.”

  “Cale—”

  He turned to MacCreedy, eyes hard, voice rough. “You got your shot. He wants to discuss the particulars tomorrow night. It’s a party. Formal. He wants Nica there, too. He’s going to text me the address. Let’s get this done so I can get the hell back to my own life and out of yours.”

  Silas studied him carefully, seeing only what Cale allowed—his anger, his frustration, his relief. But not his misgivings.

  “You’re not taking Kendra with you, are you?”

  Cale pounded him with a glare. “Are you nuts? She’s not getting within a square mile of him.”

  “And you’re going to convince her of that, how?”

  “I’ll have to find some kind of distraction.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Also my problem, not yours.”

  Cale’s phone chimed. He glanced at the screen. An address on Canal Street.

  “Gotta go. My room’s ready. I need to swing by Babineau’s to pick up my stuff.” The belongings that fit behind the seat of his motorcycle, when at home, he had a walk-in closet that could easily clothe a board room.

  “Need a ride?”

  “I can make my own way.”

  Wearily, Silas shook his head. “I’m parked right there. Don’t be an ass.”

  Cale was tired. The weight of their entire, crazy plan pressed down upon shoulders still aching from a hard day’s work, upon a heart heavy with all he’d promised to so many. “Sure,” he muttered at last. “Thanks.”

  One small compromise that would get him where he needed to be that much sooner.

  *

  The
sight of a weary, sweat-stained working man didn’t raise a single high-class eyebrow from the staff of The Saint on Canal, but as Cale strode across the pale hardwood floor toward a desk beneath two mammoth gold cupids, the other guests regarded him with something akin to horror.

  “How may I help you, sir?”

  Cale admired the man for not only holding his polite smile, but for not crinkling his nose. “You have a message for me. Mick Terry.”

  “Yes, Mr. Terry.” An envelope was produced containing a room card. “Do you need any assistance with your bags?”

  Cale hoisted his duffle. “Thank you, but I think I can manage. Which way?”

  He slumped in the elevator. What were his brothers thinking getting such posh accommodations? The eight-story boutique hotel screamed exclusive wealth. He’d talk some sense into them later. But first, that shower.

  The Archangel Lucifer Suite?

  He raised an eyebrow upon opening the door into a red, black and gold den of hedonistic luxury. Floor-to-ceiling windows hung with red velvet drapes featured pull down shades picturing faintly naughty images. Dramatically modern black leather seating, red poufs, gold and glass tables, a glossy red and burgundy tray ceiling, and 60-inch flat screen mated with old brick and Victorian antique touches. And there was nothing the least bit subtle about a high-tech sound system, sleek tiled stage, mirror ball, and stripper pole. A bachelor party wet dream come true. He caught sight of Rico’s jacket and groaned. Great. The place would be a drive-thru for drunken, uninhibited females, and only one he longed to spend intimate time with.

  He opened bedroom door number one to see Rico’s belongings tossed upon the massive king bed. So that left the grand prize behind Door Number Two.

  A second king bed sat against an oversized tufted headboard, invitingly draped with Egyptian cotton sheets and shiny brocaded black satin. A rope of red LED lights outlined its black platform like a landing strip atop a sea of plush red carpet. One of the drawn window shades featured shapely legs clad in seamed stockings and black stilettos with sleek red soles, reminding him of Charlotte Caissie. Hanging pendent lights cast an inviting glow upon red marbled walls. But, all that sexy ambiance couldn’t distract his attention from the clear, plate glass wall dividing bedroom from bathroom.

  White privacy curtains were pulled back to reveal a modern black vanity with two vessel sinks lined in red. High end toiletries and stacks of fluffy white towels sat between them. Black, white-veined Carrera marble walls and floor reflected a mammoth chandelier. A huge gold-footed black tub stood at an angle so all he could see was the top of a tousled blonde head above its curled lip. As he stared, too dazed to even breathe, one slender leg rose, trailing water and bubbles.

  His bag hit the floor. Boots kicked free, followed in quick succession by pants and shirt.

  Soft scents of vanilla and warm female enveloped Cale when he opened the glass door. He could see her profile, skin flushed from the heat, eyes gently closed, tendrils of damp hair sticking to neck and brow. Even knowing her taste, the intimate feel and fit of her in his arms, the reality of her belonging to him nearly dropped him to his knees.

  What had he ever done in his short, necessarily violent life to deserve just looking at her, let alone possessing her? He dragged in a ragged breath.

  “Room for one more?”

  “No.” Her head turned slowly, her eyes opening to do a leisurely sweep from impressive arousal to his features. “Just for you.”

  Cale climbed in, bringing the water level up dramatically. He settled facing her, guiding her feet over his hip bones as he sank in as far as he could. His eyes slid shut on a contented sigh.

  “Have I told you how much I love that you’re now a tub soaking kind of guy?”

  Recalling a once brash claim regarding his disdain of taking baths, he smiled, toes tucking underneath her slippery backside. “I had no idea how good this could feel.”

  “I know something that will feel even better.”

  He slit an eye open at that tempting overture. “What’s that?”

  “Being clean.”

  Laying his head back on the rim, he commanded with a haughty wave, “Female, bathe me.”

  Instead of hitting him in the face with her soapy sponge, which he probably deserved, Kendra began running it leisurely up and down his legs. He relaxed, letting her wash away his tension along with the day’s labor. Rhythmic motions moved to his chest and down his arms.

  “Sit up,” she instructed softly.

  When he did so, she slipped onto his lap to reach his back and wet his hair, working up a lather there, and below, as the feel of her sliding over him got him thinking less of that cleanliness next to godliness thing. His hands fit to her trim waist, directing her movements. Arms draped over his shoulders, she leaned into him, her breasts stroking against his chest.

  “Kiss me,” he whispered, “like you want me.”

  “I have never not wanted you, Cale Terriot,” Her lips brushed his, settling in for some serious teasing and tasting.

  A hard knock rattled the bedroom door.

  “Hey, you decent?”

  Cale’s eyes flew open to stare in alarm through the transparent wall, but Kendra held him down, murmuring, “Don’t worry. I told him if he opens that door without an invitation, I’d dismember him, and I didn’t mean arms and legs.”

  Cale grinned. “Ouch.”

  Rico must have believed her because the door stayed shut.

  Smiling, Kendra lifted slightly and eased down to take him inside her as she purred, “Let me do the work this time.”

  His brother’s very existence was forgotten as she began slow, voluptuous movements, rocking the water level until eventually it splashed over his hands where he gripped the sides. Their breathing hurried to match the sway of the sudsy tide, growing faster and harder until Cale seized up and let go in a mighty flood.

  Kendra kissed his mouth gently until awareness trickled back enough for him to frown.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you out.”

  “This was for you,” she murmured against his lips. “We’ve got plenty of evening ahead of us. Let’s order room service so you can build up your strength for what I have in mind.”

  He stirred, interest piqued. “What do you have in mind?”

  “I picked up some things in the Quarter this morning.”

  Her mysterious tone encouraged him to ask, “What kind of things?”

  “Things well suited to the décor of these rooms.”

  He sat up. “You went shopping with Nica for naughty things?”

  She brushed a fingertip over his frown. “Maybe.”

  “I don’t know if that makes me kind of uncomfortable or excites the hell out of me. Things to wear?” He considered for a moment then brows rose. “Or accessories?”

  “You’ll be excited.” And with that coy promise, she stepped out of the tub, giving him a good look at the tattoo.

  A howling wolf’s head within a crescent moon. He reached out to trace it, mesmerized.

  “That’s not our family crest.” He had that emblazoned on his shoulder.

  “No,” she told him, lifting his chin in her palm so she could look deeply into his eyes. “It’s yours. To honor and celebrate your new reign.”

  While he struggled for something to say from the sudden fullness in his heart, she kissed him quickly and went to get towels.

  *

  With Cale’s meager wardrobe sent out to be cleaned, they sat in the main room in hotel robes dining and drinking together, grateful for their roommate’s absence. Sitting at her feet with head in her lap, Cale nodded off before the On Demand movie’s opening credits. Supporting his slack weight, Kendra had no complaints, finding more pleasure in the study of his relaxed features than in the drama playing out on the screen. His eyes didn’t open until the final acknowledgments scrolled.

  Straightening with a yawn and a stretch, he mumbled, “I’m sorry, baby. What did I miss?”

  Kendr
a cupped his cheek with her palm. “Nothing.” She kissed his sleep softened mouth, awaking his senses with the slow stroke of her tongue. “Not yet.”

  The door banged open. Rico rolled in with a gorgeous female under the drape of either arm. “There you are,” he called out agreeably. “Hope we’re not interrupting anything.”

  “Not yet,” Kendra repeated with less warmth.

  “The ladies and I were going to finish off this fine bottle of champagne.” He gestured to the staggering red head. “This is Shelly.”

  “Sheila,” she supplied with a hiccup.

  “Right. And Karen.”

  “Carol,” the blonde in a partially unzipped dress amended.

  “That’s what I said. Care to join us?”

  “I don’t think so,” Cale assured him. “But thanks for asking.”

  Rico grinned amiably. “Maybe I’ll check with Colin and Kip.” He eyed the stripper pole. “Girls, have you got any agile friends? I have two single brothers.”

  Cale urged Kendra to her feet and bid them goodnight. Waving away Rico’s promise that they’d keep the noise down, he steered his mate behind their bedroom door. Hoping it was soundproof, he turned her into his arms, quickly tugging at the belt to her robe and coaxing it from her shoulders.

  “I think I’ve found my second wind after that little nap.”

  She pulled down his head for a wet, noisy kiss. “Good.”

  “Care to show me what you bought this morning? Or better yet, demonstrate?”

  *

  Cale’s eyes snapped open, body and mind wide awake.

  Though it took a moment to place the decadent setting, he instantly recognized the warm figure tucked in beside him. He reached out to push Kendra’s intriguing new toys out of the way so he could see the digital readout on the night stand. Two o’clock.

  The outer rooms were silent. Either his brother’s guests had gone or they were all passed out in drunken stupors, hopefully, not all over the living space.

  When he tried to settle back to sleep, his thoughts began an all too familiar prowling. The anxious sense of being caught in his own trap began its compression, choking off all his earlier contentment. Restlessly, he lifted Kendra’s hand, leaning his face into her soft palm, breathing in her unique scent, but not even that could calm him as the minutes and hours he’d have left with her ticked away.