"Definitely." His grin warmed Jacqueline all the way to her toes. "Looking forward to it."
"Good." She tilted her head to the side. "I've got big plans for you."
"Oh really?"
"Yep. Did a little shopping today. Bought a new nightgown and thought I'd model it for you."
Toby's eyes sparkled with appreciation.
"See you at closing time then," he said, kissing her lightly on the lips.
"Somebody is going to get lucky." Jacob slurred the words a little and whistled low. "Nice."
Gabe just grunted, a sure sign of his disapproval.
Jacqueline moved away, but when she looked back, her heart leapt with excitement. The black cloud of death was back. It surrounded Jacob Hill once again.
And the shadows she'd seen earlier--they danced around the man, frantic and hungry for attention. She didn't know what they were. None of the souls she'd reaped had anything like that attached to them.
No matter.
"You only delayed the inevitable, Gabe," she whispered.
A delicious chill of anticipation ran through her.
****
Kids and girlfriends could be a real pain in the ass, Toby decided.
Especially when they didn't get along.
He couldn't really blame Jacqueline for holding a grudge. Having to face your husband's murderer every day had to be tough. And choosing not to do anything about it? Hell, Toby didn't know if he would have been as strong.
But what really bugged him was that he knew she wasn't telling him everything. It was obvious that her powers were growing and she'd been tense lately, irritated even. Her temper would spark to life too easily.
She was hiding something.
How were they supposed to have a relationship if they kept secrets?
He glanced over at his son, Gabe, who shoved bottles of beer deep into the ice bin. Sullen, depressed, and generally a smart ass, Gabe was a complete mystery to him. Yet, the kid kept hanging around the bar, wanting to help out, but not wanting to admit he needed help.
Toby shook his head, frustrated. He sometimes felt like he was alone in the sea, fighting desperately not to drown. When had life gotten so complicated?
Probably the moment the Brotherhood had asked him to keep an eye on Jacqueline Huston and make sure that her banshee urges didn't get out of control. That had been over a year ago, and for a while, everything had been fine. He was content to watch from a distance, but as the anniversary of her husband's death had dawned, everything changed. Suddenly he found himself falling deeply in love with a woman who was completely in the dark about the supernatural world.
Her husband--the late Eric Huston--had been a guardian wizard. Toby didn't know if it was coincidence or not that Eric had happened to marry a woman with the banshee gene, but whatever the case, Eric had loved Jacqueline.
He'd given his life for her.
And therein lay the problem.
While engaged in a battle between two wizards, Eric had dove in front of an energy ball aimed at Jacqueline. As luck would have it, Jacqueline was just grazed by the energy. However, it was enough to stop her heart.
Using all his powers, Eric saved her.
But doing so had come with a price.
Eric died and Jacqueline's banshee blood boiled to life. The energy he used to bring her back from the brink of death activated her dormant banshee gene, a gene that would have turned her into a true banshee had she stayed dead.
The Brotherhood had not been pleased at this new half breed wandering around. But they had preferred to sit back and play the wait-and-see game. Jacqueline might have proved useful to them. That's where Toby came in. His job was to watch her and intervene when necessary.
That day had come thanks to his son Gabe and Gabe's uncle, Derek Spark.
Toby watched Gabe out of the corner of his eye. He worried about the relationship between his son and Jacqueline. They never seemed to have too much to say.
Then again, what do you say to the woman whose husband you killed?
Gabe was just lucky Jacqueline had opted to let the matter go, saying he was obviously under the influence of his controlling uncle. She could have demanded justice, could have even turned Gabe over to the Brotherhood herself, but Jacqueline had done none of those things.
She'd shown mercy.
It was that part of her humanity that would keep her grounded. Or at least, Toby hoped so. If only she would open up, talk to him about her thoughts. But while their days were filled with gentle teasing and jokes and their nights steamy and sultry, the subject of her powers was a touchy subject.
And as for the Brotherhood--Toby couldn't begin to imagine what their plans were now. His few contacts in the council were keeping quiet, but he knew enough about the ways of the Brotherhood to figure they would try to get retribution for Derek's death.
That meant trouble was coming for Gabe.
Maybe even death.
Toby couldn't allow that. The memory of his doomed Gabriella was enough to make him vow to protect his son.
"Hey, bartender!"
Toby winced at the call. He hated to be summoned like that. All of his regulars knew better. He turned to look at Jacob Hill, the drunk who'd just choked on a peanut and tried to hit on Jacqueline.
"Remember me?" Jacob waved a twenty dollar bill in the air. "I'm still waiting for another beer."
Toby grabbed a cold bottle from the ice tub and sat it in front of the man.
"Mr. Hill, you should have a care with how you shovel those peanuts into your mouth," Toby advised. "I don't like people dying in my bar because of stupidity."
"I really don't like the idea of dying in a bar for any reason." Jacob's eyes were bloodshot from the five beers he'd consumed prior to the one Toby had just given him. "Especially this one."
"You got a problem with my bar?"
"No, no." Jacob tapped his beer on the counter causing white foam to rise up and spill over the lip of the bottle. "It's just I know a little something about death and the work place. When people die there, it tends to give you a bad rep. Trust me. I know all about that."
"Did you own a business where someone died?"
"Yep. You've probably heard of me. I made all the local papers." Jacob sipped his beer, glanced around to make sure no one could over hear their conversation, and then leaned in close. "I'm actually Jacob Fortensky."
Toby narrowed his eyes, trying to remember why the name rang a bell.
"Yeah. I know what you're thinking. I'm the guy who got those two hookers killed in his own law office, right? The cops are trying to say I did it." Jacob wiped at his nose. "But I didn't kill nobody. I was framed."
Now the details came flooding back. There'd been a lot of talk in the bar about the case when it first happened a month ago. Everybody felt Jacob Fortensky was a creep lawyer who'd gone too far and finally got caught.
"So let me get this straight. Somebody set it up so that you would be found passed out with your head on a dead prostitute's breast with your fingerprints all over a bloody knife? I think I read that there was cocaine in your system and that one of the women was severely beaten." Toby frowned. "How are you even out on bail?"
"I'm a lawyer. I know all the rules and I'm innocent. And that's not true about the knife. There was one at the scene but my finger prints weren't on it."
"Uh-huh. You must have the taken the time to wipe it clean."
"See that's the problem with people in this small, fucking town. Everybody thinks they know everything about everybody else." Jacob tapped his beer again. "Women love me. I'm a dynamo in the sack."
"Then why were you paying for sex?"
"I was framed," he said again, and took a long sip of beer. "Those bitches loved what I gave them."
Toby didn't know if the bitches were supposed to be the dead prostitutes he was accused of killing or just women in general. Regardless, his opinion of the man sank even lower. Maybe Gabe should have let the guy just choke to death.
&
nbsp; "That's your last beer here in Merlyn's Bar." Toby's grim expression left no room for argument. A big broad shouldered man, he stood at his full height and nodded towards the door. "Don't come back."
"What? What about innocent until proven guilty?" Outraged, Jacob stood. A few heads turned their direction as his voice grew louder. "I know the law!"
"I don't give a fuck about the law, dipshit," Toby said. "This is my bar. I was going to let you finish that beer, but I changed my mind. I don't like you. Get the hell out."
Jacob opened and closed his mouth, unsure of what to say or do.
"Did you not hear me?" Toby walked around the bar and draped his arm over the other man's shoulder. "I'm throwing your ass out."
Toby escorted Jacob to the door. Years of practice with unruly drunks had taught him how to get someone out quickly and efficiently without really disrupting the routine of the bar. Only the regulars, the ones who frequented the same stool every night, knew what he was up to.
Everyone else was oblivious to the action.
That was just the way Toby wanted it.
With a gentle shove, he pushed Jacob Fortensky into the parking lot and the cool night air. A nice breeze was coming up off the river of Galesburg Falls, bringing with it the scent of Fall. If it weren't for the belligerent lawyer, Toby might have stepped outside to better enjoy it.
"I'll fucking sue you!" Jacob hollered and staggered towards the parked cars. "Just watch me!"
Toby shut the door. He pulled out his cell phone and called the local cab company.
"Hey, Ronnie. Toby Williams here. Need you to come pick up Jacob Fortensky. Yeah, that Fortensky. He's drunk as a skunk. He doesn't know it yet, but the keys to his car have conveniently gotten lost." Toby smiled as Ronnie complained about driving all the way out to Merlyn's Bar. "Quit complaining and come pick him up. I'm good for the money."
Toby hung up and twirled the set of car keys he'd lifted from Jacob.
He didn't like the man, but Toby liked the thought of the drunken lawyer behind the wheel of a car even less. Toby would never be able to forgive himself if he let Jacob go and an accident occurred.
He almost felt sorry for Jacob though. Ronnie really hated driving his cab all the way down to the bar. The cab driver knew every bump and pothole in Galesburg Falls and often hit them just to give rude passengers a jolt.
Toby felt certain Jacob's ride home would be a bumpy one.
Chapter 2
Angela left Merlyn's Bar through the back entrance. She'd parked her car behind the bar in order to keep it from getting scratched by the jerks who sometimes breezed in and out of the parking lot after one to many beers. While her vehicle wasn't some flashy sports car, it was the only one she had. Only one more payment left to make and then it would be hers free and clear.
No sense in taking chances. Park in the back where it won't get damaged.
That's what she'd told herself anyway. Now it seemed a bad plan. The back of the building faced the river and the tall trees lining the area swooped down low, casting spooky shadows everywhere. The gentle flow of the river should have soothed her, but for some reason her nerves were on edge. She stood just outside the closed door and looked at her car, sitting twenty feet away.
Just a short walk. Get goin'!
Angela sighed and started to the car, wishing she wasn't going home alone. While she truly was happy for Jacqueline, the green monster of envy that lived inside Angela was rearing its ugly head. Why had Derek Spark turn out to be such a loser, such a complete asshole?
More importantly, why hadn't she seen it from the beginning?
Because the sex was so good, she reminded herself. Because you lose yourself too completely in a man and never stop to think about who he really is. Because when it comes to men you are nothing but a dumbass.
Angela was glad that no one could actually hear the relentless mind chatter that when on in her head. For the most part, she was a confident woman or at least, it was a persona she tried hard to give off. Admitting her insecurities was not a natural part of her nature.
Disgusted with herself, she plopped her purse onto the hood of her car, searching through it for the car keys.
Behind her a shadow moved from the wall.
"Where the hell are you, Keys?" Angela muttered, pulling out tampons and old lipstick from her purse but finding no keys. Where had she last had them? Oh yeah. She'd dropped them on the table she and Jacqueline had been sitting at when she'd first walked in. "Probably still there."
Resigned, Angela turned to go back to the bar.
A man shoved her hard against the door of the car. With only the dim light from the bar to aid her, Angela couldn't make out much of the man's features, but she could smell his breath. It reeked of stale beer, peanuts and sweat.
And then there were his eyes.
As long as she lived, Angela knew she would never forget those dilated eyes filled with loathing and hate. They mesmerized her for a moment, taking her breath away.
"Get off me," she said, sounding braver than she felt. "You don't know who you're messing with."
"Oh? And who's that?" The man's voice was low, but his words were slightly slurred. "That asshole bartender kicked me out. Figured I'd wait out here and deal with him when he left for the night. But you look like a good way to pass the time. I'm just looking for some company. A little fun."
"I'm not." Angela brought up her knee, pleased when the man cried out in pain. She tried to shove past him, but his grip tightened on her shoulders and he slammed her back into the car door.
"Doesn't have to be this way," he said, giving her a swift jab in the stomach.
Angela doubled over in pain, struggling to keep her focus.
"I saw you earlier with your friend, that whore who is obviously screwing the asshole bartender. Thought then you looked like a girl who liked to have fun. How about we get in the car and have us a little party? I can deal with the bartender later." The man grabbed her hair, pulling her up. The rage on his face frightened Angela, paralyzing her. "Where are your keys?"
"In…inside bar," she managed to gasp.
"You're lying." He slapped her. "Don't try to pull one over on me. Whores like you always lie."
"N..no..no," Angela sputtered.
He hit her again, the force of it knocking her to the ground. She tried to crawl away from him, but a swift kick to her side, left her unable to move as pain shot through her. The taste of blood filled her mouth and her heart raced with fear. All the self defense training she'd learned over the years froze inside her, and she could only stare up at the man above her, helpless and afraid.
"Fine then. We could have been nice and comfy, but I know a sweet spot on the banks of the river over there. A private place where we can really spend some quiet time together." He reached down, digging his cold fingers into her arms and forcing her to a standing position. "Oh, you're going to be lots of fun. I can see that. Not like those bitches two months ago. One of them tried to fight me, too but my knife shut her up. I never knew cutting someone's throat would be so fucking messy."
He pulled out a pocket knife, flicked it open, and then pressed it against her cheek.
"You wear too much fucking makeup," he whispered. "What you need is a natural blush. I can give that to you."
"Please…don't hurt me," Angela begged, but he ran the knife along the side of her face. Pain burned in its wake and she could feel the blood dripping from the cut. "Let me go. I won't tell anyone."
"No, sweetie. You won't tell. You're right about that." He cupped one hand painfully around her breast as he ran the knife teasingly across her throat. "When we're through, you won't be able to. And you won't be pretty either."
Using animal instinct, she swung her arm up, knocking the knife out of his hand. Angela screamed with every ounce of energy she had.
She only stopped when the man's fist connected with her face hard enough to make her see stars. Falling hard on her arm, Angela lay gasping on the ground. Her attacker
picked the knife up and then pounced on top of her, the blade sliding into her body below one of her ribs. But he wasn't content with just stabbing her. He rolled her over and placed his hands tight around her neck.
"Shut up, bitch!" He squeezed her throat, cutting off all sound from her, as well as oxygen. "I'm gonna have to be a little harder on you now."
Oh God. His eyes. So devoid of humanity.
As Angela stared into them, she became conscious of the fact that those cold eyes were the last thing she was going to see. She grabbed at his hands, scratching and clawing, but her strength slowly ebbed away.
She could feel herself dying.
It wasn't just the lack of air, but the fact that blood spurted from the knife wound, carrying with it her will to live.
The man removed his hands, before she completely faded away.
"That's more like it! Now you're just how I like my women to be. Docile. Obedient." The man sneered. He sat up and fumbled with his belt. "I was trying to be nice, providing you with a quiet location to keep things private, but we can just take care of things right here."
"D-d-don't…"she tried to choke out the words, but the expression on his face stopped her.
"Don't tell me my business, whore." He jerked down his pants and then groped under her skirt, the touch of his fingers against her, rough and hard. "I have all kinds of ways of hurting you. We've only just begun."
"Buddy, if you want to keep all your vital appendages, you better get off her now."
She knew that voice, but her hazy mind couldn't quite place who it belonged to. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a male figure approaching them.
"Please…" she whispered. "Help me."
"Let her go, Fortensky." The strong and clear voice of the other man snapped with restrained fury. "Let her go and I'll give you a head start before I kill you."
"Gabe, right?" Fortensky stood up, wiping at his sweaty forehead. "You're the one who helped me out just a little while ago."
"Yeah, but if I’d known you were going to end up trying to rape a friend of mine behind the bar, I might have thought twice about saving your life." Gabe stepped closer. "Let her go."
The Banshee's Desire Page 2
