by Jane West
All at once I slipped from the ladder, screaming the whole way down. Just my luck, I landed in the Cajun’s arms. That damn fool knocked me off the ladder! As soon as I landed in his arms, I squirmed out of his grip. I broke free and landed on my ass in the dirt which I seemed to do a lot, lately. He reached out, offering his hand, and I swatted at his lousy gesture as I gathered myself to my own damn feet.
“What the hell!” I looked at the ground on the other side of the ladder, and the paint had tumbled to the ground and splattered everywhere. “Look what you did! Now you went and spilled paint! Besides the fact that you could’ve broken my neck!” I yammered at him.
“I could think of other ways to break your neck, if you like for me to show you?”
“Va te faire foutre!” (Fuck off) I stormed.
“Excusez moi? You could not have possibly spoken to my grand-mère.”
“Oh sweet! You think I’m lying?” I met his glare evenly.
“Non!” He smiled eerily.
“Then what?” I rolled my eyes.
“Mon grand-mère is dead.”
“What?” My breath caught in my throat. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry. Where will you be holding the funeral?”
He held an odd twinkle in his eyes. “She’s been gone for years now. I think you saw her ghost. You must have the gift too.”
“Your grandmother! Her death wasn’t recent?” I glimpsed back at the house and pointed. “She offered me tea!”
“Oui!” his eyes sparkled with amusement. “You have the gift.”
“Gift? I’ve never heard it called that. It’s more like a storm that never stops.” I shook my head. “I’m sorry for overstepping my bounds. I just wanted to help.” I sighed. Man, did I feel stupid. Then I remembered Ms. Noel’s ghost. Maybe it’s an angel thing. Come to think about it, she did mention running into Val from time to time.
“Non, non! You did good. Very sweet. Never thought you would be such a sweet...”
I shot green daggers at the Cajun. Too bad they weren’t my real knives. Rather instead, I scoffed, snapping back, “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” I paused. “So the lady I spoke to the other night wasn’t real?” I was still shaken.
“Oh, chéri, she was real. Just not human.”
“Have you ever seen her ghost?”
“Non. Only those with the gift have the privilege.”
“What do you mean ‘gift’?”
“Things such as speaking to the dead, healing, traiteur—those with magick.”
“Oh, I get it.” I averted my eyes to the dirt drive. I wasn’t sure how he’d react about my true race.
“So you come today to carry out an old woman’s wish? Yes?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm… do you dress this way when you paint?” The Cajun’s mien pivoted into a lustful drool. “If so, I’d like to come more often. I like what you wear. Do you always look so how do you say in English, scanty?” His wolf-like eyes crept over my body. Instinctively, I wanted to cover myself. Crap! Men are pigs! “Of course, if you were mine, I’d only want you to dress like this for my eyes only. Non for anyone else.” His eyes kept roaming.
I frowned. “I wasn’t expecting company. It’s hot. I’m working.”
“I saw that...and your ass hanging out of your shorts too. I like!” my face flushed from his wolfish smirk.
“I don’t like the way you’re eyeballing me. Stop it!” I demanded.
“It is a compliment. I meant no harm.”
Avoiding his ogling, I quickly changed the subject. “You have my knives?”
“Those knives mean a lot to you. Yes?”
“Yeah, I keep them for souvenirs from the last three men I killed.” I flashed a wicked smile. His black eyes twinkled.
“Aw, now you tease old Nick. Tsk-tsk.” He wagged his finger at me.
I looked the Cajun in the face. “No, Nick, I never joke about killing. I have a nervous tic. Whenever a man gets fresh with me, he ends up with a knife thrust in his heart,” I said with no glint of humor.
“Peut-être (Maybe) I shouldn’t give back your knives.” He threatened without any apprehension.
“So you admit you took them?”
“Non! I only admit to having possession.” He smiled like a rotten thief.
“You care to wager over those knives?”
“Why are these knives so important to you?”
“They’re special. And they belong to me.” I placed my hands on my hips regarding him snootily. “Are we on?”
“Special, huh. I like the sound of that. What is your parié?” (wager)
“Whoever hits the target three out of four gets the knives. Deal?”
“Oh! You think you can beat Old Nick, petite-fille?” (little girl)
“I already have.” I flashed a confident smile. I could see he liked a little challenge.
The tall, dark Cajun drew a small circle, making a target with the white paint on the trunk of an old cypress tree several paces away. I watched, thinking there was no way the mortal could throw a bull’s-eye at that distance and hit his mark on that tiny target. I gloated to myself. He thought he had the advantage. I’d appease his ego—for a while. I smiled inwardly. This should be fun.
When he returned to my side, he said, “Ladies first. Yes!”
“Nope. I think you should go first. Show me how a real man does it.” Sarcasm rolled off my tongue.
“Your petit copain (boyfriend) didn’t tell me you were a séductrice.” (temptress) He flashed a white wicked smile.
“Val is not my copain.”
“Non?”
“Nope. Thanks to that damn kiss the other night, we are officially over.” I sighed.
“Aw, chéri, I am truly sorry. I shall talk to him and tell him it was all me and my drunk ass.”
“Oh! You think I meant your kiss? Sorry, I was referring to someone else’s,” I said very coldly. Then I heard chuckles flowing from the Cajun’s mouth.
“You are one salope frigide!” (frigid bitch)
“I love it when you talk dirty.” I mocked. The look he gave me might’ve scared most, but I wasn’t the norm. “Are you going to throw, or do you need to be coddled?”
“I see why your petit copain left you standing at the altar.”
“We didn’t make it that far. And FYI, I left him. Sorry to disappoint.” I smiled with venom.
He shook his head. “Bebè, you didn’t disappoint moi! I couldn’t care less.”
“Then shut up and throw the knife,” I ordered. Old Nick looked very irritated at me as he flipped the knife in his hand, expertly. I watched how he handled it, and I was impressed. I stood and watched him throw all four knives. Each one landed in the bull’s-eye zone, but none was in the dead center.
Now it was my turn. He went and pulled the knives out of the tree and returned the knives to me with a full-on gloat. I laughed to myself as he handed them to me. I thought I might play with him a little bit first. I stepped up to the mark.
“Eh, if you need a little closer,” the Cajun interrupted, “I’ll allow it, since you are a fille.”
I smiled. “That’s so sweet of you!” Then my smile dropped, and I got real. “No chance, bucko.” I firmly put my hand against his chest and shoved him out of the way. “I’m going to show you how the real pros do this.” I struck a nerve as the Cajun snarled at me in silence, but there was a glint of praise in his eyes.
I started thumbing with the knife clumsily. I dropped it a couple of times. I’d switched hands as though I wasn’t sure which one to use. Then I swung the knife, nearly nicking the Cajun. Luckily, he was quick on his feet. A rush of curses filled the air as I stifled a laugh. It was fun toying with this arrogant douchebag. That was what he got for laughing at me earlier, but what did he know? After all, I was a genetically altered angel. I had the upper hand. Several, in fact. I almost felt bad taking advantage of the Cajun. Almost.
Then within a soft breath, I barely took aim and threw the remaining three kni
ves at the same time. My beautiful knives whizzed through the air fast and precise, hitting the tree at the same time, blade to blade clanked, dead center on the bull’s-eye. Perfecto!
Suddenly silence fell as the ringing of steel plagued my ears. My non ami almost turned blue as his laughs jammed in his throat. Then I turned to him with my gloat and announced, “You have no idea what you’re dealing with!” I looked him dead in the eyes. I left him gaping as I went and plucked my knives out of the tree and found the other one on the ground off to the left, only a couple of feet past the tree. I sure did miss my little shiny friends. I walked right past the Cajun without another word, got into my car, and peeled out of the drive, throwing small beads of rocks onto his Harley as I floored the gas. Bullets of curses hailed into the trail of dust that followed behind me. I laughed the whole way home.
I didn’t bother taking back any of the paint and supplies. I figured he should paint his own grand-mère’s house so she could rest in peace. He owed her that much. What an awful person. Funny! The ghost of the house, his grand-mère, claimed I’d meet a dark man who’d become my protector. Well, I could scratch him off the list of possible candidates. He couldn’t even take care of his grandmother’s house. I was done—done with men.
Babylon’s Fallen
The bottom fell out about 6:00 p.m. right after dinner. The night first started out great. After we’d finished eating dinner, I insisted on doing the dishes to give Dom and Jeffery a break. Well, mostly Dom. Jeffery usually directed more than lifted a finger, much less a dish. Rather instead, he often bragged about how a celebrity like himself should never have dishpan hands. Like I’d said often, I love my Jeffery.
As the evening unfolded, the guys had just taken a seat in the family room, sipping their wine, when Jeffery flipped on the television. Dom wanted to watch the news, and Jeffery wanted to watch the latest episode of Housewives of Atlanta. He was preoccupied with one of the wives’ catchy tunes. Jeffery kept repeating “Fabulous” and Gone with the Wind. I laughed, rolling my eyes as I finished up rinsing the last dish.
Right then, I realized I belonged here with those two. They completed me. Dom kept me grounded, and Jeffery kept me in stitches. After the long journey of Dad’s death, Mom’s death and finally, Dawn’s short life, I’d come to understand that life is precious. No one had a guarantee there would be a tomorrow. If I died tonight, I had absolute certainty that my life was complete and most of all—happy.
Then I took a bottomless breath. If I were so satisfied, why did I miss having a special man to hold me at night, to share my life with?
After leaving Val on the porch alone, he still had not bothered reaching out to me. Aidan’s gone a blessing. Of course I’d never be completely free of him unless he agreed to break the spell. Wow, a magickal divorce. How ironic? I scoffed to myself. Hell would freeze over before Aidan Bane De Pont would set me free.
Out of the blue, the doorbell rang. My head popped up. Who could that be? We weren’t expecting company.
I dried my hands with the dish towel and tossed it aside. I rushed to the front door. Without checking through the peek-hole, I swung the door open, and my heart sunk. There standing on my front porch was the last person I’d expected to greet—Nicholas Bourdain. I frowned.
Disappointment painted my face red. I was hoping for Val. What a sap I was, thinking he’d changed his mind.
The Cajun interrupted my thoughts. “Don’t worry! I didn’t come for another kiss. I’m here on business. Val sent me. Ask me in!” he woofed. “I don’t want to discuss this in front of your neighbors.”
“What? No, please?” I stood there, gripping the door. The Cajun folded his arms and glared at me.
My eyes raked over him but stopped at his muddy boots. “Take your shoes off and don’t sit on my furniture. Your clothes are dirty.” I snarled my nose at him. “You need a bath too!”
Amusement teased his eyes.
“If you’d like to bathe me, I’d happily comply, chéri.” He flashed his pearly whites.
I rolled my eyes. “Not a chance. Bye!” I went to slam the door in his face, but he quickly stepped inside the door and pushed past me. “Wait a damn minute, Frenchman!” I stormed after him.
By this time, Dom and Jeffery had come to inspect the commotion. The Cajun ignored me and started speaking to Dom in perfect French.
“Val m'a envoyé. Nous devons partir maintenant! Ils viennent après la jeune fille. ” (Val sent me. We have to leave now! They’re coming after the girl.)
Both Dom and Jeffery shared glances.
“Holy cow! It’s happening. I looked at Dom and Jeffery, fear mirrored our faces. The Illuminati are seizing the world!” Then I turned my attention to the Cajun. “Where is Val?”
“He’s with his kind. They’re gathering forces now.”
“I want you to take me there,” I demanded.
“Non! If you go anywhere near the Zop, they will kill you.”
“How do you know about the Zop?” I gaped at him, perplexed.
“I know plenty. Get moving! We have to go!” The Cajun urged, barking orders. I stood there, staring at him for a brief second.
“Okay, you win!” I dropped my arms and grabbed my keys and headed out the door.
The Cajun grabbed my upper arm and jerked me around, facing him. “Those keys are no use to you!” he warned. “You have to leave your vehicles behind. They might have detectors that can trace our location.”
My head was spinning, I couldn’t think. “Who am I riding with?” I blurted.
The Cajun smiled. “Don’t worry. I handle my bike like I handle my women.” There was an intrinsic glint in his eyes.
“Disgusting pig!” I mumbled under my breath. As I stalked past him, I heard his laugh trail behind me as I slammed the door in his face.
Standing on the front porch, I paused. My mind was reeling from terror for my family; and I was angry at Val for sending that French pig in his place. How could he dismiss me at a time such as this? Then again, we were no longer together. Still I wanted to be in the mix of this battle. If anyone had reason enough, it should be me, but I was treated like a defenseless girl, even worse—an outcast. I felt betrayed by Val.
When I stepped out onto the front porch, I’d glanced down at the street spotting Nick’s gang on their bikes parked against the curb. I took note of one nice looking Harley, black and silver chrome, empty seated with the key left in its ignition. Suddenly, a spark lit under my ass, and I flew into action. I had to move fast. I took two steps at a time down the long steps, swinging the gate open and running past the bikers until I reached the Harley. Swiftly, I straddled the bike and kick-started the engine. The gentle sound and rumble of the motor between my legs gave me a little flicker of excitement. “Sweet!” I mumbled to myself. The current of daringness surged through me like a quick flash of memories before death. I eased off the throttle giving the bike more gas.
Before I knew it, I was speeding off. Quickly I hugged the corner, and as I turned, straightening the wheels, I let it rip, accelerating this sweet ride into a thundering bolt of lightning down the street. I gotta get me one of these! I smiled to myself.
I knew time wasn’t on my side. I had to get to Val before any of these clowns caught up with me. I’d worry about Frenchie when he caught up. Right now, everything came second. First and foremost, I needed to speak with Val.
By the time I reached Val’s place, I had figured every cop in the parish would be hot on my trail. Weaving in and out of traffic at a high speed, even I was amazed that I hadn’t crashed. Although it was a delightful thought destroying the Cajun’s bike might push the guy over the ledge.
I parked directly in front of Val’s bar in plain view. As much as I hated greeting an angry biker, I hated it even more if the bike ended up stolen. I clenched the key in my hand as I ran past the bar.
My next thought, I knew exactly where Val would be. The Zop race was huge. The only place that could accommodate a fraction of the Zop nation
would be Val’s gym. I was positive he’d be there, though I feared I might be too late and even worse, meeting an early death by a supremacist Zop. I’d darted past the stairwells and burst through the double doors.
Immediately, I was seized by two Zop-guards. They were giant size, and I fretted they might rip me in two with one jerk. Instinct kicked in, and I screamed for my life. Through the haze of terror, I spotted Val on top of a table with his full attention on his warriors. When he heard my bellow, his head snapped up in my direction.
Silence blew in like a frigid storm, and Val’s brows dipped into an angry snare. He ordered the guards, “Bring the girl here! Do not harm her.” He spoke with great strength and leadership. The Zop soldiers obeyed. As they made their way, heads parted, allowing the two guards and me to pass. When we reached Val, the two guards dropped me roughly at his feet. He bent down close to my face, his expression was hard. “This better be good!” a vein in his neck was pulsing, swelling dangerously.
It threw me off momentarily, realizing that Val’s anger was directed at me. Despite his vile mood, I had to push past that. I had something to say and I was determined to say it. “I might be an impure, but I can fight better than any Zop standing in this gym.” I stood straight, shoulders back, eyes daring anyone to try me.
“You’re over your head!” Val belted above the crowd. “Stay where you belong with the humans. Nick will protect you.”
I scoffed. “You think a human can protect me?”
Val growled under his breath as he leaped down off the table. I knew this look. In five—oops, no—three seconds, my feet went airborne and the rest, well, you know.
Once we burst through the doors outside, I had to face another audience. The Cajun and his gang were all hanging directly in front of Val’s bar. I noticed Jeffery and Dom were with the gang too. I felt relieved they were safe.
Val dropped me right in front of Nick. Oh, great! I thought.
Deliver me to thy enemy much?
Val threw his finger in my face and bit back the strident words he wanted to say, instead he restrained himself, though, his face remained beet red.
