Dark Angel (An Angel Novel Book 2)

by Jane West

  I worried that I was the source of his sleepless nights.

  As we made our way to the house, I couldn’t peel my eyes away. It was breath taking a vision only in a magazine. Majestic and mystique, the century old mansion stood tall as if it was awaiting for our arrival. Merely painted white, with black plantation shutters embellished the narrow windows along the front porch.

  Ancient avenues of oaks lined the street, offering its cool shade as crepe myrtles colored the air with sweet perfume. The wonderful scent reminded me of Saint Ann Street, my old neighborhood back in Tangi.

  The house, in comparison to my previous home in Tangi, was no small fry. After all, it didn’t get much better than the Garden District. Jeffery led me past the wrought iron fence, leading up a flight of brick steps that seemed eternal and just passed the steps, on the porch hung oversized ferns swaying gently to the light breeze.

  The yard was small, yet its luscious green was inviting. Suddenly, I yearned to run my bare feet across its thick carpet. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt the cool touch of grass between my toes.

  Tears began to sting, and I quickly wiped the moisture from my eyes. I wanted to hang on to my last shred of dignity until I was in private.

  On the left side of the porch, I noticed a white-wicker swing with fluffy pillows of yellow and on the right side a wicker table with multi-colored chairs matching the flowers from the garden.

  When we entered the house, the aroma of food floated in the air. Instantly, my nose kicked in from the delicious tang, taunting my growling stomach. Dom must have been stirring up a big meal. I couldn’t wait to eat the perks living with a chef.

  Then my attention shifted to the grand foyer. A sweetness scented the room of gardenias in a glass vase, centered on top of a round table, dark Mahoney, under the three-tier chandelier.

  I stood there for a moment, gaping at the elegance. This was beyond my imagination. Stunned for words, I twirled around, slowly taking in the awe.

  As Jeffery nudged forward, we entered into the sitting room. Sunlight filtered through the windows, bringing a wonderful warmth to the room. I spotted a grand piano sitting in the corner by the picture window. Soft accented chairs and a white stuffy couch nestled the cozy fireplace, in conjunction with bright Persian rugs adding color and elegance to the dark-wooded floors. Artistic paintings hung strategically on every wall, lending the home that good old Southern charm.

  “Jeff, everything is so...so amazing.” Tears began to fall regardless of my effort to hold them back.

  “Come on, boo. Let’s get you some food, then I’ll show you your room upstairs. Dom and I fixed it up nicely for you.” Jeffery smiled, trying not to show his unease.

  “That sounds great.” My smile felt hollow.

  Suddenly a faint meow appeared from underneath the piano. I glanced down and caught a glimpse of a large white puff of fur rubbing against the stool. My eyes went wide. “Is that?”

  “It sure is! And you best be thankin’ me too. That damn cat and I do not get along. He’s nothin’ but trouble.” Jeffery grumbled.

  Surprisingly, I laughed, and Jeffery’s eyes glistened. It was nice to see his old spark back.

  As soon as Snowball heard my voice, he came running to me. I grabbed my beloved cat into my arms and nestled him against my chest. His gentle purr felt soothing. I’d forgotten how much I loved that sound.

  This time a flood of tears poured down my cheeks, not sad ones but joyous ones, the kind I hadn’t had in such a very long time. I was home. I lifted my eyes. “Jeff, thanks!” I could barely speak above a whisper.

  His deep-golden face beamed as he leaned in giving me a quick squeeze. “Come on before Dom decides to skin me alive. That cranky Frenchman has been waitin’ all day to see the likes of you. Besides, I’m hungry.”

  Unaware, for the first time in a long while, I felt numb. Numb was good.

  Hence, regardless of how good everything seemed right now, I wasn’t fully myself. It would take time to heal. My mind seemed to drift into nowhere-land, a vast desert of sand and tumbleweeds. I had no idea how long it might take to recover if ever.

  I possessed a stockpile of doubts, but one thing I could be certain about—that being here in this lovely home with Jeffery and Dom was the right path in my recovery, or at least for now. I still needed to be mindful of their safety and the risk they were taking having me in their presences.

  When we stepped into the kitchen, I was swoon by several mixtures of spices kicking up my grumbling stomach a notch. Even still, I paused. Just like most Southern homes, the kitchen was at the back of the house. The bright gallery came equipped with all the modern amenities, blended with that old world charm. The Wolf-stove seemed to be the focal point of the room, and the oversized stainless steel refrigerator promised a heavy stock of assorted foods. I especially liked the pictured windows, bringing in the outside to the indoors. The space had everything one would need—inviting and cheery as the rest of the house.

  Dom, in his white stained apron, turned from the stove, and quickly his pencil-lined mustache stretched across his face into a bright smile. “Oh, how wonderful! The mistress of the house has returned.” The chunky chef gathered me into his arms and hugged me tightly. He then held me at arm’s length, eyeing me from head to toe like a father inspecting his soiled child from a day’s play. “Look at you!” he tsked, making a clicking sound with his tongue. “You must eat. Come. Sit.” He urged in his heavy French accent pointing to a round table directly in front of the far-left window. He pulled a chair out as I followed his lead and sat down. “I have made a feast for you, but I think perhaps you might eat something not so rich for the tummy, yes?”

  Before I’d uttered a word of protest, Dom padded off, in short, returning with a bowl. He placed it on the table in front of me. “This is much better. Eat.” he insisted, air swatting me.

  I glimpsed down at the steamy curls drifting to my face and savored its salty aroma chicken soup. Instantly, a smiled touched my lips as I looked up into Dom’s gentle face. “It smells delicious. Thank you.” I reached for my spoon.

  Jeffery sat a glass of milk and a mug of Coca-Cola on the table beside me. He patted my shoulder, “boo, drink both of these,” he advised. “You is startin’ to look even more pasty than normal.” Disquiet painted his face.

  My hand instantly touched my face. “I am?”

  Jeffery’s nose crinkled. “I know you is naturally pale but damn!”

  My good friend always knew how to flatter a girl. Some things never changed.

  I flashed him a black look.

  Jeffery was right. My skin looked haggard. During my confinement at Haven, the food provisions severely lacked. In fact, I couldn’t recall eating, unless drugs were part of the food group.

  Only a unique type of employees worked at Haven. Monsters, I called them. Not your typical Southern-hospitality kind of folks. Their behavior was pernicious.

  I assumed the Family handpicked each and every employee. I couldn’t imagine any decent person working in that torture chamber that they called a hospital.

  I shivered. The abuse a vision I wanted to forget.

  I once feared the men in black. That changed the minute I stepped foot in Haven. The men in white were far worse the orderlies. They took the meaning of sinister to a whole different level.

  Even under my murky mind, I recalled how the boys in white got their rocks off. Every round, they gathered around my bed cheering on the nurse who had the pleasure of administering the drugs. Because I didn’t cooperate, the boys took great enjoyment holding me down and prying my mouth open and stuffing a fist of meds down my throat.

  I hated them and plotted their death. With a simple butter knife, I took some sick pleasure envisioning their murders. I never acted on it, but just the same, the desire persisted.

  The orderlies often reported to the charge nurse, Betty, concerning my defiant behavior. Unfortunately, my reprisals fell upon unsympathetic ears. Nurse Betty favored h
er staff, condoning their malice.

  After her precious boys kept coming back with busted-up lips and scratched-up faces, Nurse Betty took matters into her own hands. That was when she pulled out all the stops shackles and a straitjacket.

  Several months later, the doctor begrudgingly took a moment out of his busy schedule from snorting coke and watching porn in his office to examining my festering foot. The heavy shackles were too tight cutting off circulation. As a result, my foot needed amputating. From the lack of proper cleaning and nourishment, my foot became blue from infection. If I’d been anywhere else, I would’ve been hospitalized. Ironic though, I was in a hospital. If that was what you called it.

  Dr. Phil Good and Haven feared imprisonment for their sadistic care. Thanks to the doctor’s paranoia, he ordered the nurse to remove the shackles, and I received the proper medical attention.

  Betty and her minions didn’t seem too pleased with the doctor’s orders. Despite the doctor’s wishes, they were determined to keep at least half of me constraint. Happily abiding by the orders of Nurse Betty, the orderlies kept me in a straitjacket for safety measures.

  Still, I took some sick delight laughing in their faces when they had to remove the oppressing steel.

  ***

  I looked up with my spoon suspended. Two pairs of worried eyes were mirroring my every move. “Guys! I’m fine.” I attempted to convince them, but I didn’t want to sound ungrateful either. After all, they could’ve left me at the gates of that appalling hospital. “I mean...I really, really appreciate all the trouble you both have gone through for me. I’ll be okay. So, stop worrying!” I forced a smile. To be honest, I might’ve been trying to assure myself that as well.

  Dom reached across the table patting my hand. “Why don’t you let us do what we do best?” He smiled, stretching his pencil mustache even thinner.

  “I’m sorry.” I dropped my spoon into the bowl of soup and withdrew a faint sigh. “I don’t want you guys to fuss over me.” I couldn’t be more grateful for their endeavor to nurse me back to health, but I had nothing to give back. I was empty and barren.

  “We want to help.” Dom smiled warmly.

  I hesitated for half a second then I spoke up. “I have to ask. It’s been on my mind for a while.” I paused. Dread washed over me but I had to ask. “Have you heard from Aidan?” I blanched, fearing whether or not I really wanted to know.

  Jeffery and Dom shared a strained glance. Jeff took the lead and answered. “Honey, we ain’t seen Aidan.”—He inhaled a sharp breath—“Since that night you were kidnapped all sorts of spooky mojo shit has happened.” Jeffery’s oval blues bugged.

  “Like what?” My heart skipped a beat.

  “For starters, that whole damn castle vanished, foundation and all.” Jeffery faced looked like he’d seen a ghost.

  I gawked in surprise.

  Then Dom added, “We haven’t heard from Aidan since the disappearance. His cell phone goes straight to voice mail. Everyone has disappeared, and we have no explanation to why. Even his uncle Van and his son, Sam, have vanished off the grid.” The taunted wrinkles in Dom’s forehead were stark.

  I sat there in silent shock. It was no secret, Aidan’s uncle, Van, and Sam were not my favorite subjects. Sam was a psychopath and a serial rapist, and his uncle wasn’t any better.

  I couldn’t vouch for Van’s whereabouts. Although, I knew about Sam’s whereabouts. Aidan took his life. Though Sam’s demise was abrupt and violent, it was justified. He was going to rape me and leave me for dead. Aidan saved my life killing Sam before he’d finished me off but not before Sam had badly beaten me.

  If it hadn’t been for Aidan and his Druid magick, I would’ve died. I reckoned that was one thing I could be grateful for.

  “Aidan is MIA?”

  Jeffery chimed in. “That’s an understatement! We have no mofo idea. We is still scratchin’ our heads. I got a sneaky suspicion that his family used that voodoo shit and poof castle and all those mofo jokers went bye, bye. Apart from Aidan, I hope none of them return.”

  Dom interjected, scolding his partner. “Jeff, you’re too superstitious. There has to be a logical answer to their whereabouts.”

  “I beg your pardon!” Jeffery gaped. “Where the hell have you been, mister?” Jeffery started waging his finger in Dom’s face. “Explain to me how that damn castle vanished, Mr. I-Believe-In-No-Ghost? Even the rosebushes disappeared.” Jeffery pursed his lips in a huff.

  Dom kept his composure as he gently countered, “Clearly I don’t have all the answers, but don’t assume without facts, ma chère. Nothing around here is ever as it seems.”

  “Well, you need to stick to what you know best—cooking!” Jeffery fired back.

  Suddenly I started to laugh, hysterical laughter. Both the men forgot about their tiff and shifted their wide eyes to me. At that moment, I’d lost my sense. I couldn’t catch my breath. Soon Dom and Jeffery joined in, and the room filled with insane mirth.

  It felt good to free this strange emotion inside me. The peculiar hilarity seemed odd to my ears, a sound that jumped ship since the asylum.

  Nevertheless, with no warning, my mood changed like the wind. I started to sob, and the house became still. For a brief moment my two friends gaped in stunned silence.

  I was a mess. The drugs were flushing out of my system faster than I’d expected and reality was forging through.

  Looking down the barrow of a gun was hard to swallow. My life was a train wreck. I wasn’t sure what was worse, dead inside or alive and despicable.

  Time Lost

  After we had finished dinner, Jeffery found a perfect excuse to leave the dishes for Dom while he dragged me upstairs.

  At the end of the hallway, we stopped at a door. “What’s the hold up?” I questioned, reaching for the knob. Like a streak of lightening, Jeffery threw himself against the door, blocking my entrance. My brows furrowed, confused.

  “Oh, no you don’t, gurrrlfriend!” He waged his finger. “Not until you wear this.” He pulled out a pink scarf out of his pocket, waving it in my face.

  I snatched it out of his hand and grumbled, “All right, I’ll put it on if you take that damn smirk off your face.”

  The tips of Jeffery’s mouth stretched to the Grand Canyon. “Let me help. Turn around.” He twirled his finger over my head. “No peeky-poo,” he advised as my back was to him, “Or else I’ll slap your white-lily hands till they turn black.” He cinched the knot as my head jerked backward. “You know, once you go black you never go back?”

  Good grief! I rolled my eyes as I rubbed my head. “Whatever!” I couldn’t see it, but I felt my friend’s smile of triumph.

  With Jeffery’s guiding hand, I stepped through the threshold, sightless by the scarf that was cutting off brain cells.

  It was that tight.

  If I even acted as though I might peek, Jeffery jumped on it like a fly on crap, swatting my hands. Sometimes Jeff could be one mofo.

  “Okay, you can open them now.” Jeffery beamed as he jerked the scarf off my head. I suddenly felt circulation to my brain.

  When my eyes opened, my breath stalled. I stood gaping into a large room. “Holy mother of god, this is my bedroom!” I turned to Jeff, astounded. “No way?”

  “Way! Dom and I spruced it up ourselves. Do you likie?”

  I gulped. “Uh, yeah! It’s sick!” I latched my arms around Jeffery’s neck and squeezed.

  “I suppose sick means you like it.”

  I glimpsed up at my friend with a wide smile, “It means you rock! I adore it, Jeffery.” I quickly reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

  “Okay, now you is getting’ too grateful. You know I hate that cuddly-kissy-kissy shit.” Jeffery rubbed his cheek.

  Funny, I found myself laughing, an actual laugh. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

  “Oh, yes, I have!” Jeffery spat. “Now I belong to the snotty, rich-bitch society instead of waitin’ on ‘em.” Jeffery waved his hand. “I got refined too.
I can hold my little pinky out drinking nasty, hot tea, eating a stale crumb cookie just like those gossipin’ old biddies. I even got hats that can run circles around those old women, and I do mean literally.”

  I shook my head. Who’s he fooling? He hadn’t changed one bit. I laughed to myself. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Running my eyes over the room once again, I started to pinch myself. It all seemed too good to be true. The bedroom was more than enough room, yet it was warm and inviting.

  Like all older Southern homes, it had a blazing fireplace to the far wall. Muted overstuffed chairs cozy-upped to the hearthstone, perfect for reading a good book by the warm fire. The room was adorned in gentle, soft creams with just the right touch of mint green and light lilac.

  When my eyes fell upon the canopy bed, my heart sank. Staring at the white netting took me back in time Aidan’s cottage. Memories, I didn’t care to revisit, if ever. Maybe later Jeffery wouldn’t mind if I removed it. I’d wait to ask him later. I didn’t want to spoil the moment for him.

  I glanced into his beaming face. I think he was more excited than me. Seeing his joy made me love Jeff even more than I already did. I couldn’t be more grateful to the guys for the trouble they went through to help me.

  A sudden pain struck bringing me back to the reality that my being here might not be in the guys best interest. Everything was quiet for now, but I didn’t know how long that would last.

  Shaking off the willies of my past, I drew my attention back to the present as I padded over to the window hiding behind sheer curtains. I drew the drapes back and gasped. Below was a garden full of bright colored veggies. It was enchanting. Breathtaking cherry-blossom trees full of soft pink buds swaying in the breeze. I spotted an array of flowers that dotted the fence with every color imaginable.

  For a second, my breath stalled until Jeffery tapped me on the shoulder. I quickly drew in a breath and glanced up at my friend. “Hey, there’s more stuff to go bug-eyed over.” Jeffery tugged at my sleeve.

  “I’m coming.” I tossed a gentle smile.