Chapter 16
Hank
The weather is bright and sunny for March. Nothing like Falls Creek this time of year. Here, my leather jacket seems out of place. I glance up at the blue sky and take a deep breath before pushing open the wood and glass door to St. Roch Market. The sooner I see Sheila, the sooner I can get back to my angel.
I almost screwed things up earlier. The idea of someone, even Edwina, filtering through my mind unsettled me. I jumped to conclusions. Hurt her feelings unnecessarily. After I took a moment and thought about her words, it occurred to me I was being one of those judgmental jerks from Council. Getting upset with Edwina for embracing her talents was wrong. Not once has she ever found fault with my beast.
Angel can’t help what she is. Being born at a low point in this country’s history and the actions of a selfish asshole made Edwina. If given the option, she’d probably erase facets of her past, thinking it would make a difference. It wouldn’t though. Her imperfections drew me in, and I love everything about her.
So tell her.
Once this shit with Tyson is done, I’ll show Edwina what she honestly means to me. My beast has already set his sights on her. I just need to claim her as mine.
A wide variety of food smells hit my nose. Curling on a backdrop of smoky oil is the pungent brininess of seafood, the vibrant aroma of freshly ground coffee, the lush fragrance of different spices, and the delicious scents of baked goods—yeast, butter, and sugar. Inhaling the delicacies fried to perfection almost makes me forget why I’m here.
People walk to and fro, bustling past me. It’s a mostly human crowd full of students, stay-at-home mothers dragging miniature versions of themselves behind them, and the occasional person pretending to be hard at work on a laptop.
Inhaling deeply, I pick up traces of something supernatural. The brother with dreadlocks taking an order for a vendor called Fritai is a shifter. Fire and brimstone waft off him, letting me know he’s a dragon. On the other side of the counter is an elemental witch. I’m surveying the rest of the customers and staff a little closer when sweet musk tickles my nose.
“Hank.” Her voice separates the cacophony of noise and curls around me like a caress.
Swinging around, my heart skitters. The sight of Sheila calls my body to attention. Her long limbs are covered in jeans so tight they must be painted on. A sheer blouse shows off her ample assets. My gaze settles on her full lips, warm brown eyes, waist-length wavy, brown hair, and creamy skin. Memories rewind, and I’m recalling the good times between us.
I am officially fucked.
“Took you long enough.” Her caustic tone yanks me out of my head, spoiling the moment. Repulsion replaces the happy thoughts as I recall how she cheated on me with Tyson and every other cat in Falls Creek. My beast extends his claws, ready to strike. Realization settles like leaves falling.
She doesn’t hold my heart anymore.
“You’re lucky I’m here,” I grumble. If I had put my foot down, the one who owns my heart would be at my side. “If it weren’t for the oath, I wouldn’t be.”
“Lucky for Tyson,” Sheila quips. She has always hated the blood oath my brother and I took. She especially hated how I tried to uphold it where he was willing to bend the rules for her. Her top lip curls as she snorts and looks beyond me. “Where’s your new toy? Too ashamed to bring her around?”
I shove my hands in my pockets to keep them from fisting. I’m not the type of cat to strike a female, but if Sheila keeps dissing my lady, I might put aside my beliefs. “Edwina’s not my toy. You might as well know we’re together now, so watch what you say about her.”
“You’re fucking a vampire?” Sheila’s voice rises in either disbelief or shock. “Either you’re desperate or bored. With me—”
I spear Sheila with a glance, and she swallows the rest of her comment. Instead, she rolls her eyes and says, “Let’s sit outside. We need to talk.”
With me in tow, I notice how Sheila interacts with every male in the room. Some merely smile and nod as she walks by. Others completely ignore the female they’re with in order to grab Sheila’s attention. Yet others appear ready to enter a pissing contest just so she’ll notice them. My ex moves like a bitch in heat. Did she behave this way while we were together? How did I miss it?
Because I loved her too much. Love makes a cat blind.
We sit at a table near a low wall. I should have insisted we stay indoors. Sheila’s attracting males like a flower garden enticing a swarm of bees. Another man wearing a bright orange suit passes by, stops in his tracks, and doubles back. This one is bolder than all the rest. He ignores my presence and comes over to Sheila. Too strong, cheap cologne assaults my senses—a fucking jackal.
He rests an arm over her shoulders and leans in. “Charmer, can I take ya ta lunch?”
Glancing up, I see my guess is correct. The flashy male with shocking blue eyes, pale and pock-mocked skin, and bad teeth is the epitome of what I hate. Every jackal I’ve encountered is short on taste in clothing and even females. For some damned reason, they all think they’re the most important creature in a room. Most of them either dabble in the drug trade or find employment as comedians.
This fool has no idea that he’s not even worthy to take out Sheila’s trash. She’s a lot of things, but I don’t think she’s ever stooped to his level. Hell, I’d stay abstinent if the only being I could fuck was a jackal.
Sheila poises her shapely mouth to respond, but I jump in with a growl. “If you don’t take your trifling ass up out of here, I’m gonna hit you so hard your spots will change colors.”
A loud hee-hee-hee comes from his too wide mouth, and he slinks away.
Sheila crosses her legs and leans back in the chair. Her gaze snaps to me. “Was that necessary?”
“Maybe you should dial it down a bit? Try acting like a concerned parent for a moment.” It’s almost embarrassing to be in her presence.
Sheila licks her lips and shifts in her seat again, crossing and uncrossing her legs. I get a whiff of her arousal. Damn. She is in heat, no doubt on the prowl for another victim. If I recall, we met when she was in heat. Some of the best memories I have of her happened during her season. Problem was Sheila seemed to always be in heat. She claimed her line was a very fertile one. Perhaps that’s why she would conveniently be gone when I’d wake up after sex. I actually feel bad for Tyson if he’s been dealing with her shit. No cat should have to endure Sheila Montgomery.
She reaches across the table, but I yank my hand away before she touches me. There was a time when I would have fallen for Sheila. I would have surrendered to her seduction like all the other males in this place. Thanks to Edwina, the jaguar ain’t even registering. Okay, I admit to having a weak moment, but it passed like a cloud covering the sun. I have someone much better waiting for me.
“You said we needed to talk. Out with it,” I snap.
“Aren’t you concerned about your brother?” She exhales and withdraws her hand. “I haven’t heard from him for quite some time.”
Her voice is cold, like she’s talking about the fucking stock exchange. When I find Tyson, I need to clue him in about her. He can do better than Sheila. I did.
“What about Michael?” My nephew is innocent in her little game. I’m guessing Tyson is the real parent in this situation. “Have you heard from the person who has him?”
Sheila lifts her hand loosely with her palm up. Her voice is flat as she says, “Michael’s fine. Damien won’t hurt him.”
Every muscle in my body tenses. What kind of game is she playing? I can hear the blood rushing to my head. My hands tighten into fists as the first threads of reality unravel. “And why is that, Sheila? You got something going with him, too?”
Her mouth twists like she’s sucking on a lemon. “Do you always have to be an ass? Damien only took Michael to see his father. He’ll bring him back in a few hours.”
“Bring him back?” I slam my hand on the table, and she flinches. “What the hell is going on, Sheila?”
She draws in a long breath, and her face twitches. I may have touched on a nerve. But the moment dissipates like morning dew. “You really need to calm down, Hank. Everything is going according to plan.”
“What fucking plan?” I scrub a hand over my face. “Is this some type of joke? I don’t have time for this.” I push to my feet, and my phone chimes with a text. It can wait. I start to say something when Sheila cuts me off.
“This isn’t a joke, Hank. We needed to get you to New Orleans.”
“We? Did you and Tyson—” The sickeningly sweet smell of Hai Karate destroys my thoughts. I haven’t encountered that scent in a long ass time. Not since Jackson…
A sardonic smile creeps across Sheila’s gorgeous mouth. “Not Tyson. Say hi to someone you might know.”
I pivot on my heel.
Wrong move.
Elijah’s massive fist meets my jaw, and it’s lights out for me.