Dark Angel (An Angel Novel Book 2)
Page 9
Before I had a chance to digest what had happened, I heard bloodcurdling screams coming from downstairs. It was Jeffery! I panicked. With no time to consider, I fled downstairs, taking two steps at a time, following the distressed cries.
As I reached the guest room, I stopped. There stood Dom at the bedside of Ms. Noel, consoling Jeffery as he lay over his aunt’s limp body. She had died in her sleep. Right away I went to Dom’s side to help with Jeffery. At this point, we couldn’t do anything for her. Ms. Noel had past.
Just seeing the pain in Jeffery’s eyes broke my heart, and I felt the sting of tears myself, but I held mine back. Right now Jeffery needed our strength, and breaking down wouldn’t do anyone any good. Even still, I felt stun. The death of Ms. Noel didn’t feel real. Only moments ago, she had been talking to me.
***
The coroner announced Ms. Noel’s death at 1:55 a.m. How could that be possible? She had awakened me at 2:00 a.m. Had I been speaking to Ms. Noel’s ghost? I shivered. Maybe I should keep this to myself. I might’ve been dreaming. A very vivid dream, if so.
Since the passing of Ms. Noel, Jeffery wasn't handling it very well. His relentless weeping kept Dom and I busy. Her death had heartbroken all of us, but it hit Jeffery the hardest. I took it upon myself to handle the funeral arrangements. For Jeffery and the family, I wanted nothing but the best, and the best meant the traditional New Orleans—jazz funeral.
Down here, folks did things in a large way. I’d never seen a procession where the grieving family danced to a lively band parading down the streets of the city. Some attending came dressed in bright colors of gold and purple with feathered hats. Men in top hats marched alongside a glitzy horse and buggy, carrying the coffin.
Jeffery and Dom were at the head of the march as the line of family members and friends went back for more than a mile. Many came from all over the state, from people Ms. Noel treated with her special herbs to folks she’d greeted in passing.
Watching Jeffery fall apart had tugged heavily on my heart. I knew he blamed himself for his aunt’s death. I wanted to comfort my dear friend and reassure him it was her time to go. Maybe after things settled, I should tell him about my visit with Ms. Noel. I think it might help Jeffery deal with his loss. After all, she did give me a message for him. I should honor her last wishes.
The funeral had been quite emotional, not a dry-eye throughout the day. Poor Jeffery was a broken soul. It took several of us peeling him off his aunt’s coffin before they dropped her into the ground. Jeffery’s deep belly cries nearly ripped my heart out. I’d never seen him so distraught. Dom had the patience of an angel. He never left his partner’s side.
After the procession, folks came to the house. A few family members while eating some of Dom’s famous deserts told stories about Ms. Noel. I gathered by the pleasant tales, she was a well-loved woman by everyone. It had been a sad day and yet, a day of celebration.
***
It was twelve o’clock midnight, and only a few folks were stirring about on Bourbon Street. Strange, I thought. The city that never slept must be taking a nap.
I stood in front of the neon sign that read, Mephistz. The very same bar Jeffery and I were abruptly asked to leave. I must’ve lost my mind because here I stood once more, glutton for punishment. Stupid, I knew. I was about to make the same dimwitted mistake, only this time I had a completely different purpose. Tonight had nothing to do with partying.
Rather, I came to follow through with a promise I’d made to a dying friend or, should I say, dead. I shivered. But that wasn’t my only reason. If this stranger with the gold-eyes had any information leading me to my child, I had to take my chances.
I looked down at my hands. They were trembling. Quickly I hid them behind my back. With these tight satin leggings and a clingy blouse I poured my body into, I didn’t have any hiding spots. Aside from my uneasiness about this bar, I sensed something different about this golden-green-eyed man. In my short life, I’d been in the face of some dark-hearted sons of bitches, but this one had me quite intrigued.
“Okay,” I said to myself. “On the count of three.”
When I entered the bar, it hadn’t changed any since Jeffery and my last visit. Nothing out of the ordinary. Even though the joint was empty of patrons, a thick cloud of smoke like fog wafted in the air, coupled with a pungent scent of sweat and liquor. Typical dive, I reasoned.
I made my way over to the bar. An older man bartending came over to me. “What’s your poison, little lady?” He flashed a smile with a profound whistle. I suspected dentures. I returned the kind greeting with a curt smile. I tried to mask my jitters, though I got the feeling this guy saw through my charade. “Just Coke tonight. Thanks.” There was low music in the background playing, a radio, I think. The tunes were much different this time. I was relieved. I needed my mind clear.
He tossed another lopsided grin.
“Where’s your friend?” He whistled.
“He’s home. I came alone.” I pushed out a smile.
“Oh, I see.” The bartender seemed suspicious as he lazily popped the cap and handed the Coke to me, still in the bottle.
“What? A girl can’t go to a bar alone?” I squirmed a bit.
The server smiled back with a glint in his eyes. “Depends,” he said with an impish grin.
“Depends on what?” I challenged, trying to keep my cool.
“Depends on what you’re looking for.” To me, his eyes seemed too intense for a man his age. “I say you’re here on business by that Coke you’re drinking.” He nodded at my drink as he picked up a white cloth and started wiping a glass.
“You are a smart man. I do have business. In fact, I’m looking for a man about six foot five, blonde hair to his shoulders, late twenties, golden eyes, nice looking. Uh...you know.” I surprised myself on how I popped off details about the dude’s appearance. “He was here that night.” I took a quick swig of my Coke, trying to play it cool.
“And what would a nice lady like you want with this gentleman?” The server continued wiping the glass.
“Isn’t it obvious?” I threw the question back at him. I didn’t feel like explaining myself, so I tried to pull it off like I had the hots for the guy.
He laid his glass down, flipped the towel over his shoulder, and looked me straight in the eye. “Nah, that ain’t it.” Then the corners of his mouth tipped slightly upward, hinting at a smile. “Not that he wouldn’t be flattered by your offer.” He shot a knowing wink.
It seemed this guy knew far too well how to get a rise. “Is your friend afraid of a little girl?” There was a drift of challenge in my voice.
Predictably, the bartender’s eyes narrowed.
Abruptly, I felt the heat of his glint as I dropped my gaze. Though when I lifted my eyes to meet his, my breath lodged in my throat. It was as though a veil had lifted and—poof—the golden-eyed dude stood in the bartender’s place. My brows shot up with astonishment. “W-w-what just happened? Where did the old guy?” I stared at him. “Wait! That guy’s not you?” I gaped. Please say no! Please say no! Okay, I was having a weak moment. I had to admit the golden-green-eyed guy had some serious eye candy going on and way too hot to be a dirty old fart.
“Maybe, maybe not.” He flashed his pearly whites.
A tingle washed over me. I had to stay focused. As stately as he might be, I refused to become ensnared again by a man, so I ignored my weakness. “Someone sent me here, saying you could help.”
“Really. Like what sort of help?” He dropped his towel and glass, leaning over the bar, inching closer to me. I pulled my shoulders back, distancing myself.
“I need to find someone.”
“Look, Freckles that sounds like a job for the police.” He rose back up and began wiping the same glass with a snarl of irritation across his face.
“The police won’t help.” I snapped.
He suddenly stopped rubbing the damn glass as our eyes locked. “Why is that?” His voice was as grave as his eyes
were piercing.
“Because I need to infiltrate the Illuminati,” I dropped it in his lap like an explosive bomb.
He leaned in again, only closer, dropping both the glass and towel. “What could that family have of yours that you’re willing to lose your life over?” All the air went out the door, and an icy stillness seized the bar.
At that point, no need to beat around the bush; either he was willing to help or not, so I blurted it out. “My child.” I stared back at him as a faint glint of shock took hold of the stranger’s expression.
He stood frozen. Then suddenly he hurled a glass across the room, shattering it against the wall. Shards flew from the explosion.
I flinched from his sudden reaction. Coming here might’ve been a huge mistake.
“Who fucking sent you?” The angry retort hardened his features.
Awkwardly, I cleared my throat. “Ms. Noel, my friend.” I stepped back.
Though agitation still lingered, he seemed to simmer down. “How is Ms. Noel?” He asked as he ran his hand through his thick hair.
“She died. We buried her only a few days ago,” I blurted out, rushing my words.
“I’m sorry to hear that. She was a good woman.” He went back to wiping another glass, only more vigorously. “However, she was wrong.” He still continued polishing the glass.
“Wrong about what?” I spoke up sternly, hoping to mask my uneasiness.
He looked up at me with exasperation strong in his eyes. “There’s nothing you can do. The child is dead.”
His cruel words cut me down to the bone. I narrowed my eyes. “Sorry to have bothered you, whatever your name is.” I was wasting my breath. I turned to leave.
“Val,” he said to my back. “Short for Valor. And you are?”
I faced him and said, “Stevie.”
“Stevie, where is the father of your child?”
“Dead,” I said flatly.
“How did he die?”
“I don’t know.” I stood tense.
“Did the Illuminati do it?”
“Perhaps.” I shuffled my feet. I didn’t know where he was going with this.
“Were you married to him, or was he just a boyfriend?” Strange that he’d ask such a personal question. Why would he care?
“You want the truth?” I faced him, shoulders back, ready for whatever he threw at me.
“Yeah, I do.” He appeared more than curious.
“The father was neither.”
His brow arched. “Neither? You don’t look the type for a one-night stand.”
I huffed. “Look, mister, either you’ll help me or not. I don’t see where it’s your business about my love life.”
“Does your deceased lover have a name?”
“Yes.” My lips tightened.
His brow shot up, obviously waiting for me to say.
I rolled my eyes. “Aidan Bane DuPont.”
The golden-eyed man smirked. “I’ve heard of him. He’s part of the Illuminati family.”
“Yes.”
“And this child of yours is Illuminati?”
Now my temper started to surface. “No! The child is mine.” I pointed to my chest, in a huff. “I gave birth to her, not that goddamn family!”
“Okay, okay!” He stuck his palms up in defense. “I get it. You’re a mom, and you want your child back.”
I shifted on one foot. “Are you going to help me or not?”
“Hmm...let me think about it.” He paused as though he was mulling it over in his head. “Yeah, about that...NOT a chance in this lifetime, lady!”
I gaped. “Why didn’t you just say that in the first place then.”
“Well, let me save you from the trouble. There’s nothing in this universe that can penetrate the forces of that forsaken occult. The child is as good as dead, and the sooner you face that fact, as harsh as it seems, the better off you are and everyone around you.”
Talk about blunt! “Listen! I didn’t come here to get a lecture, you jackass! No one knows what that family is capable of doing better than me. Whether you help me or not, I’m getting my child back! Got it!” I had my fist flinching at my side, ready to start swinging.
Instead, the ground started shaking underneath our feet, and our argument came to a sudden halted. When our eyes exchanged, there was a mirrored shock. Abruptly losing control of my footing, my feet flew out from under me. It happened so fast I had no time to catch my balance.
Expecting a sharp pain shooting up my backside from the hard concrete floor, I found myself nicely tucked against the gold-eyed man’s chest as he held me steady. The rumbling ceased, but my heart picked up where the vibrating floor had stopped. For a moment, I felt flustered. When our eyes locked, he had a curious gleam in his unusual eyes. He whispered. “What the fuck are you?”
Then I remembered his little masquerading trick and his swift speed rescuing me from the fall. “I could ask you the same thing?” I threw back at him. The speckles in his golden eyes shimmered, stealing my breath away. I was putty in his grasp. Crap!
The Devil’s Den
What a freaking jerk! I spilled my heart out to him, practically begging for his help, and all he could say was “‘Get out!” No explanation. Nothing! And he couldn’t just ask me politely. Compared to last time, he’d been as sweet as a porcupine, which was a step up to this. To make matters worse, he had the nerve to carry me out and drop me dead center on my ass on the sidewalk. And his last words, “Go home, Freckles. I told you not to come back.” He then hailed a cab and left me there as he disappeared back into his damn bar. I didn’t understand why Ms. Noel sent me to him? She was wrong about this jackass. There was nothing nice about him. If you called egotistically self-absorbed and arrogant nice, then I’d pass on this one. Forget him! I didn’t need his lousy help anyhow.
***
That following week, we did our best to get back to our usual routine. Of course, the whole house continued to mourn over the loss of Ms. Noel.
As the next week passed, Dom kept us fed and did everything he could to comfort his longtime partner of twenty plus years. It touched me seeing how Dom lovingly cared for Jeffery in his time of grievance. Family support played a huge part in getting over the hurdle of a deceased loved one. In time, the pain of loss would ease for Jeff and both Dom and me too. Though, Ms. Noel would be greatly missed. She would’ve wanted it that way too.
In the meantime, I decided to do some of my own detective work. Of course, I kept it on the down low. If Dom and Jeffery caught wind of my plans, they’d lock me up in the wine cellar and throw the key away or, even worse, insist on coming with me? Sweet, but not smart. I had to do this all by myself.
Haven Hospital, I figured, would be my best place to begin. Like most hospitals, a filing system was a given. I assumed Haven attained records of their patients as well, and with any luck, they had a file stashed away of my child’s birth. It may be a mission impossible, but it was my only shot.
I gave in to a bleak feeling. Would the Family be careless enough to trust Haven with valuable files? Chances were slim. There might be a clue—anything that could lead me to the whereabouts of my child.
Breaking into Haven was a cinch. The hospital never kept up with modern times by upgrading to computers. They stored everything on hard copy. That meant any old sap with a little motivation could get easy access to their archive.
I had a solid plan on how to get my hands on that file too. Well, sorta solid. At least when I played it out in my head, it seemed rational with only mild risk.
***
When 1:00 a.m. rolled around, I headed down to a well-known spot that drew in a particular type of crowd. A speakeasy, New Orleanians’ slang for bar, located in the Upper Ninth Ward district. A dive, I wouldn't take even the infamous, Jack the Ripper to on my worst night. No worry though. I could handle myself. If I could survive the iniquity of the Illuminati, anything else was a piece of cake.
I discovered this place during my stay at Haven. Back then
, it didn’t mean anything to me, but now, it might just be what the doctor ordered. I overheard a couple of orderlies talking about a bar they hung out at down at the Bywater area, south of the Mississippi River. After listening to the orderlies’ lewd chats, I figured it must be a sleazy dive. Judging by their character, I couldn’t imagine anything else.
I overheard one particular fat cat bragging about being a regular. Seeing that it was a Saturday night, with any luck, the bastard might be getting his jollies off at this dive tonight. Since he worked at the hospital, he’d have easy access to the office, meaning he could steal my file. I thought if I sweetened the deal with a generous incentive, it might motivate him. I heard he had a gambling problem and was hard up for cash. It sounded insane, but dangling the rabbit in front of this fat son of a bitch just might be my ticket to getting my hands on the file and finding my child. It was a long shot. Those employed at Haven were sadistic and twisted just like their prototype, the Illuminati, but if I could appeal to the orderly’s greed, he might be inclined to help. After all, money was the root of all evil. This creep was greedy and evil. He should play right into my hands.
When I saw the weathered sign hanging from a rusty chain, the words were barely legible. It read, The Devil’s Den. I thought, how fitting. There were dives and then there were dives. For safety reasons, I didn’t want to become conspicuous. To hide the fact that I was a girl, I found an old baseball cap and a sweatshirt that should’ve been thrown out long before now. I even went as far as tying down my boobs, making me appear flat-chested and less curvy. Since I was sweating like a pig under all this clothing on the hottest night of the year, my stench should repel any admirers.
I strolled in like I owned the place, yet, vile was rising up in my throat as I nodded to strangers. No one knew the better as far as I could tell.
The joint spilled over with loud blaring music and crowded bodies shoulder to shoulder with all sorts of creepy. Personal space at this dive didn’t exist. Stepping into New Orleans nightlife had its risk, but this rat-infested bar took front and center. My eyes raked over the place. Talk about strange bedfellows. The smell was different here than at Gold-Eyes’ bar. The stench of liquor, sweat, and something else—sex—filled my senses. Yuck! I thought.