Angels of Bourbon Street (Jade Calhoun Series: Book 4)

by Deanna Chase

  This time, Camille pressed Ian up against the wall, her hands curling in his black button-down shirt. She moved in to nip his neck and growled. In one swift movement she tugged, and the buttons of Ian’s shirt popped off, leaving the fabric dangling at his sides.

  His eyes went wide for a nanosecond. Then he whirled, forcing me against the wall, his hands dipping into the slit of my skirt. Flesh met flesh and he grasped, hard enough to leave bruises. I would’ve yelped if I could have. My mind screamed to get away, to force Ian and his grabby hands out of the room. For me to run as far and as fast as I could. But that tendril of energy was still spilling from my mind, keeping me connected to Camille as she writhed under his touch.

  A pulse that had nothing to do with lust throbbed through her. A tingle so faint, yet familiar. Then it started to build.

  Clarity lifted the fog on my brain and I knew. She was using sex to steal my magic. She was grabbing hold of Ian’s desire and using his energy to steal the magic from me. And I was powerless to stop it.

  My skirt was hiked up over my thighs now, my legs wrapped around Ian’s waist as he thrust against me, the fabric of his jeans rough against the tiny layer of silk coving my sex.

  Please, I silently pleaded to no one. Make it stop.

  I longed for a detached numbness, but as Camille pulled more and more magic from my soul, my awareness heightened and all of her emotions flooded into me. Hot, desperate lust boiled inside her as she grappled with his belt buckle, followed by gleeful anticipation to use the full force of my magic, and then righteous anger. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was she was so furious about, but underneath the dance of emotions gripping her, it was the driving force to her actions.

  Camille slipped my hand into Ian’s open jeans and palmed his full length. He moaned, thrusting against me as he buried his head into my neck, scraping his teeth down my sensitive skin.

  In my mind, I struck out at both of them, wanting to wretch or maim or just curl up in a ball and die. I was so utterly helpless to stop any of it. A dangerous thrill coiled within Camille. Ian’s hands were under my shirt, cupping and kneading my now-bare breasts.

  “Jade,” he said, his voice low and tortured, “I’ve wanted this since the day we met.”

  Releasing him, Camille stepped back. Without saying a word, she slowly tugged my silk panties down, letting them fall at her ankles.

  Ian’s smoldering eyes traveled the length of my legs, pausing to memorize the fabric pooled at my feet, and then he jerked his gaze back up.

  She licked my lips. “Come to me.”

  As if in a trance, Ian moved forward, grasping my hips and jerking me against him. His hands slipped under the skirt again, this time meeting bare skin. “Oh God,” he moaned, pressing himself against my mound.

  “Take me,” Camille growled. “Right now. Right here.”

  No, no, no, no, no, I screamed in my mind. This was not happening. Ian would not do this to me.

  But he was. And as far as he knew, I wanted it. Hell, I was demanding it.

  I recoiled into my mind, reciting the lyrics to “Song Bird,” by Fleetwood Mac, the one my mom used to sing to me after a nightmare when I was young. Anything to retreat from what was going to happen to my body. I imagined myself curled in a corner with my fingers in my ears and my eyes squeezed shut, oblivious to everyone and everything. I am not here. This isn’t happening.

  The magic was building all around me, pressing in on my imaginary body rocking back and forth. Power. Everywhere. Camille’s excitement smoldered hot, burning and searing through her, ratcheting up until it sang in a crescendo of pressure and pleasure.

  The sensation of skin on skin entered into my shell of awareness. I pressed my imaginary palms to my imaginary eyes, praying for numbness.

  “Now,” Camille commanded. “Fuck me.”

  No!

  The door slammed open, wood splintering across the room. Ian froze, his half-naked body hovering over mine on the bed.

  The icy fire fled my body, and I slammed back into my flesh.

  “Get off me!” I screamed, shoving Ian with enough force that he tumbled right off the side of the bed. I curled to my side, wrapping myself in the comforter as tears spilled unchecked down my cheeks.

  I gasped, almost choking on the sob clogging my throat.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Kane’s fury reverberated through me.

  I scrambled to my knees, clutching the blanket around me just in time to see Kane’s fist slam into Ian’s face. A sickening crunch filled the room, and blood gushed from Ian’s once perfectly straight nose.

  Ian seemed to fall in slow motion against the nightstand, his arm sweeping the lamp to the floor. It shattered with a spectacular crash, and Ian landed sprawled among the ceramic shards, tiny cuts seeping all over his torso.

  Meri stood just inside the room, shock and fear clear in her wide eyes. Kane reached for me, his face full of concern, but I jumped from the bed and ran into the bathroom. My fingers shook as I fumbled with the lock. Turning, I pressed my back against the door and took a deep breath. Oxygen rushed to my brain, and my head spun. My knees gave out; trembling, I sank to the floor, burying my face in my hands.

  Through the door, I could hear a renewed rustling. Flesh met flesh, followed by grunts of pain and growls of frustration. I tucked into myself, rocking in place just as I’d imagined in my mind, and covered my ears.

  I fully retreated into myself, and everything went silent. All I could feel was the very real violation of being sexually assaulted. Could you call it assault if the ghost possessing you not only seduced the man, but tortured him beyond desire? It didn’t matter. I’d been invaded, heart, soul, and body, and no amount of rationalization could make it better.

  Curled up on the floor, I concentrated on the diamond tile pattern, trying not to think of anything. One black diamond tile sat surrounded by eight white tiles. The pattern repeated, perfectly throughout the small bathroom. I counted nine black tiles across. The second row eight black tiles. Nine black tiles. Eight. Nine. Seven. I narrowed in on the odd row, trying to find the missed beat.

  “Stop it! Get off him. Kane, stop it. That’s enough.” Pyper’s voice filtered through my fog.

  The noise stopped, and muffled voices rumbled in the other room.

  I stopped counting tiles and curled into a fetal position again, squeezing my eyes shut, wishing I were anywhere but here. What would Kane say?

  Moments later, someone knocked softly on the door. I flinched and wrapped my arms around myself tighter.

  “Jade?”

  It was Kane. And though I longed to be wrapped in his safe arms, I couldn’t bring myself to move. He’d seen me with another man. One I’d almost dated. I couldn’t face him. Couldn’t look him in the eye after what he’d seen. I couldn’t even form words, much less explain myself.

  “Jade,” Kane said again, softly. “Please, open the door.” He didn’t sound mad. His voice was soft, tentative. But he’d still ask questions. Ones I didn’t want to think about.

  Flashes of Ian touching my bare skin, running his tongue and lips over my breasts, and his obvious pleasure from my Camille-controlled touch made me want to gag. I scooted toward the waste bucket in case my stomach decided to purge itself.

  Kane’s knocking became more insistent and his tone more and more panicked as he called my name through the door. I just wanted everyone to leave so I could get dressed and quietly go home. But which home? Not Kane’s house. I just couldn’t…

  “Jade.” Kane’s strangled voice pleaded from the other side of the door. “Please, baby, I need to know you’re all right.”

  I still didn’t move, despite the anguish that ate away at my heart. My pain was too fresh, too raw. I was certain my soul would crack apart if I had to face Kane right then.

  The voices in the hotel room lowered then eventually faded away.

  They’d left. Oh, God. They’d left. What would Kane do now?

  My eyes blurred. Tears ran in
a steady stream and pooled on the tile. Why is this happening to me? Why now? The life I’d dreamed for myself was slipping away right before my eyes. Through my muffled sobs, I heard the distinct sound of the door opening.

  I froze and stifled a cry.

  Kane’s fresh rain scent washed over me. “Jade?” His voice was so low, I almost didn’t hear him.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and willed him to go away. I knew he wouldn’t, but anything was better than facing him.

  His scent faded and a second later, the pipes groaned and water rushed into the shower. I curled the blanket around me tighter.

  The room filled with steam then Kane gently tugged the blanket from me. I resisted for a moment, but the lure of the shower won the battle. I had to scrub the day’s events from my body.

  But as soon as the blanket lifted from my naked body, I recoiled again, ashamed and terrified to look Kane in the eye.

  He didn’t say a word as he lifted me gently and carried me into the bathtub. Placing me directly under the stream, he stood behind me, fully clothed, making sure I was steady on my feet. The hot water scalded my tender flesh, but I welcomed the pain, letting it drive away the recent memories.

  “You’re doing fine now,” Kane whispered in my ear. “Everything’s going to be all right. I’ve got you.”

  The tears fell faster and I sucked in a breath. “You’re…” The words got caught in my throat.

  “I’m what?” he asked.

  I shook my head and swallowed. “Don’t leave,” I forced out.

  His hands tightened on my shoulders. His breathing hitched with emotion as he leaned in. A few seconds went by. Then he gently kissed my cheek. “Never,” he said, his tone almost strangled. “Never again, Jade.”

  Chapter 19

  With Kane behind me, we stood in the shower until the water turned tepid. He reached around me, shut off the taps, and then wrapped me in an oversized white towel. I stared at my feet, afraid to look him in the eye.

  Carefully, he shifted and stepped out of the tub. Once he was stripped out of his wet clothes and wrapped in his own towel, he moved in front of me but didn’t say a word. I knew he was waiting for me to look up at him. I just couldn’t. I wanted to. I wanted to gaze into his understanding eyes and get lost in the toffee flecks I knew would be there. Sighing, I turned away.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Kane reach for me and forced myself to stay still, to not flinch from his touch. Sweat broke out on my brow and I bit my lip. I clutched the nearby towel rack to keep myself from running.

  Barely touching me at all, he tucked a lock of my wet hair behind my ear. “I’ll be right back.”

  As soon as the door closed behind him, I stepped out of the tub and ran the water in the sink, splashing the cold water on my face. Bile rose in my throat; I couldn’t even let him touch me. The crack in my heart deepened.

  The door opened, and Kane slipped in, careful to close the door behind him. I glanced at his hands and let out a tiny gasp of relief. “Where did you get those?”

  He handed me a pair of my jeans and a sweater, along with my undergarments. “Pyper ran to the house and picked them up. Your other…well, we thought this would be more comfortable.”

  More tears welled in my eyes, but I blinked them back. I clutched my clothes to my chest and met his beautiful, kind eyes. The compassion I found there nearly broke me all over again. “Thank you.”

  Kane’s eyes went soft as he gazed at me, and I forced myself to not look away. Not for him, but for me. To prove I could.

  His eyes turned concerned as he searched for something in my gaze. I glanced away, not ready to be scrutinized. He let the moment pass and quickly changed into a fresh set of his own clothes. I stood still, clutching mine, too nervous to do anything.

  Fully dressed, Kane turned to me. “Jade?”

  “Yeah?”

  “As soon as you get dressed, I can take you home.”

  The lump was back in my throat. I didn’t look up.

  “Our home,” he said, answering my unspoken question.

  Relief flooded through me. He still wanted me there.

  I nodded, my hands trembling.

  A tortured sigh escaped Kane’s lips, and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me to him until my head rested on his chest. He kissed the top of my head. “I love you, pretty witch.”

  My heart stopped, and my mouth opened to utter the words back to him, but no sound came out. Instead, I gripped the back of his shirt and held on with everything I had. His arms tightened around me, and we stood there for what seemed like hours, though only moments passed.

  I pulled away and stared at his chest. “I’m sorry.”

  Kane didn’t move. He barely even breathed. His hand slid up my bare arm, over my neck, and ended with two fingers tilting my chin up to meet his steady gaze. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”

  My pulse pounded in my throat as I tried to hold back another onslaught of tears.

  “Understand?”

  I lost the battle and squeezed my eyes shut.

  “Jade?”

  I nodded and choked out, “I understand.”

  He pulled me to him once more, hugging me briefly. “I’ll be right outside. Take as long as you need.”

  I nodded again, clutching my towel around me. The door shut, and quiet voices murmured from the other room. Leaning against the vanity, I concentrated on the air inflating my lungs. I wasn’t okay, not by a long shot, but my relationship with Kane wasn’t in jeopardy. And that was enough to put me back on solid ground.

  Once dressed in my regular clothes and fully covered, I almost felt normal again…until I walked out of the bathroom and spotted the bed. I stumbled back, pressing my palms to my eyes trying to block out the memories of Ian groping me and Camille urging him on.

  A hand landed on my back. “Let’s go.” It was Kane. “Time to get out of here.”

  I let him lead me out of the room and down the hall, but when we got to the elevator, I shook my head. “Stairs.”

  Meri and Pyper met up with us, but neither said a word, only followed us down the stairwell. Tourists bustled past, and thankfully, the bar was packed with a line waiting at the entrance, blocking the area where I’d kissed Ian. A tremor ran through me at the thought.

  When the door opened and we spilled out onto Bourbon Street, I stood in the street, dazed and almost paralyzed by the crowd. Tourists swarmed, jostling me into drunken coeds.

  My eyes glazed over, and the next thing I knew, Kane was leading me up the steps of his shotgun double. It was the middle of the day, but I headed straight for his bedroom, closed the door behind me, and crawled into bed, burying my head in a pillow. I closed my eyes, wanting only to sleep, but I couldn’t turn off my mind. Ian was everywhere. Camille, the magic that had swirled in me and her disturbing need to have sex with Kane the night before, and how she’d compelled Ian to act in a way I couldn’t believe. How could he have done that?

  I tossed and turned, trying to clear my mind. Eventually, I sat up and stared at the opposite wall and the bright painting depicting a flooded New Orleans with houses in treetops. It was sad and hopeful all at the same time. My gaze flicked to the wing chair in the corner, the one Ian and Pyper had fallen asleep in one night while watching over me.

  Ian and Pyper. How was she doing? My hand automatically landed on the nightstand and wrapped around my phone. I tapped out a quick message and waited. A few moments later a light tap sounded on the door.

  “Pyper?” I called.

  The door opened, and her dark head floated in the opening. “Hey.” Her eyes were wide, her tone tentative.

  “Come in.” I patted the bed next to me.

  She pasted on a fake smile and slipped into the room. “Can I get you anything?”

  I shook my head.

  The bed dipped as she crawled across the king-sized bed and sat cross-legged beside me. She smoothed the bed, concentrating on the subtle geometric pattern. “Can I do—” />
  With someone else to focus on, my bravado returned, and I held up my hand. “I’m fine.”

  She let out a dismissive snort.

  “Okay, maybe I’m not fine, but I think I will be.”

  “Of course you will.”

  I smiled at that then sobered. “And what about you?”

  She shrugged.

  “Pyper?”

  Her eyes softened, and then she grimaced. “Please don’t do that. Don’t feel like you have to talk to me about this. I’m not the one who…never mind. I’ll process my own feelings later. Right now, Meri’s in the hall. We have something to tell you.”

  The tiny amount of relief at not having to discuss what happened with her boyfriend fled. “What is it?”

  “I think Meri needs to explain it.” Pyper opened the door, and Meri, along with Kane, entered the room.

  Well, wasn’t this just a great big slumber party? Kane perched on the side of the bed, his hand resting lightly on my thigh. His solid presence helped to soothe my unease.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, noting Meri’s hesitant expression. “Where did you go earlier?” My mind whirled with a faint memory of Pyper leading Meri away right before Camille possessed me. I turned to Pyper. “Why did you tell her I was downstairs?”

  She winced.

  “Jade,” Meri started, “Pyper was compelled to do that.”

  I stared at her, mouth open. “What…?” I trailed off, realizing exactly what that meant. “She was possessed?”

  Meri nodded slowly. “That’s what we think. It was a mild possession.”

  “What does that mean? Mild? How can someone be mildly possessed?” I gripped the bedspread to keep myself from punching something.

  Meri gave me a sympathetic smile. “I know. All it means is the hold wasn’t that strong. Camille was able to control Pyper for a very short time—”

  “Camille? How? I thought I was the only one at risk.”

  Meri nodded. “For the most part, you are. But you seem to have a connection to Kat and Pyper—”

  ‘Wait! What? Kat’s involved in this too?” My head was spinning. Pyper and Kat had been possessed? I thought back to the night before, when Lucien had to calm her down. “Shit,” I said, catching on. “Camille possessed her when she was with Lucien, right?”