Chapter 21
Hank
As soon as the door opens, we’re ready to fight. I sniff the air and pick up a strong, slightly familiar musky scent. Entering the room, though, ain’t Ryder’s goons though. Last time I checked, the asshole doesn’t associate with wolves. My beast, however, stays on alert just in case.
A light flickers overhead, casting us in a yellow glow. A group dressed in various pieces of camo gear—three brawny males and a female who may have spent too much time in the weight room—stare at my brother and me. Definitely wolves.
“Are ya Hank and Tyson Richards?” asks a red-headed male with tribal tattoos on his exposed arm.
I rise to my feet and yank off the damaged collar. “Yeah. And you are?”
“Name’s not important. We’re under orders to get ya out of here.” He turns to the others with him. “Make sure the place is all clear, and then torch it.”
No one has to tell me twice. I gesture to Tyson, and we follow the ginger down the stairs, through a metal door, and out into the night air. Squealing tires catch my attention. My car screeches to a stop at the curb, and Edwina and a bald-headed wolf jump out.
My heart pounds too hard while my mind turns to mush. No matter how fast we move, it’s not quick enough. I can finally breathe when Edwina comes to a halt in front of me. Pulling her into an embrace, I inhale, knowing she’s all right. She wraps her arms around my waist and squeezes tightly.
“Angel, how did you find me?”
“Sheila,” she says flatly.
The smell of smoke starts to fill the air. Howling wolves rush past us. Someone’s set the building on fire. Within minutes the squeal of sirens surges in the distance. I tug Edwina away from the mounting chaos.
“What did you do, Angel?”
“I convinced Sheila to give up the address.” A sly smile crosses Edwina’s beautiful mouth. “Ya also had a little payback, thanks to me.”
Whatever did I do to deserve this female? Anyone else would have been fuming with jealousy, but not my angel. I tilt my head to the side. “Do I even want to know what you did to Sheila?”
“I just helped her with her hormonal problem. There was a dragon shifter—”
I put my hand up, not wanting to hear the particulars. Sheila is no longer my concern. “Thanks.”
“Any time,” Edwina says. “We need to get out of here before the fire department shows up. I’ll drive.”
My angel steers my car through the dark streets of New Orleans like she still lives here. Tyson sits quietly in the back seat. He has yet to tell me the full story of his involvement with the PFC.
“Where are we headed?” I ask Edwina.
“For now we’re going back to Kragen’s. Ace and Morgan, the heads of the BlackGuard, are waiting for us. Ace was the wolf who showed up with me to the gym. We have to come up with a plan to get rid of the PFC permanently.”
“Wishful thinking,” Tyson mutters.
Before I can speak, Edwina responds, “If ya have something to say, be out with it.”
“I’m just telling you getting rid of the PFC won’t be easy,” he offers.
“No shit,” I counter.
“Stop it! The two of ya arguing won’t solve anything. We already know dismantling the organization won’t be easy. It don’t mean we don’t try. Besides, Tyson, I’m not too sold on ya. How do I know ya weren’t part of the trap?”
“I promise you I wasn’t,” Tyson says in a strong voice. “Any tricks done were courtesy of Sheila. And before either of you jump to conclusions, Sheila and I haven’t been together for about a month. I don’t know where she’s been or who she’s been with. Fortunately, she left Michael with me.”
Hank cuts in. “The kid’s with Duchamp now.”
Tyson exhales loudly. “Not my choice of caretaker, but at least he’s not Sheila.”
No truer words have ever been spoken. From the behavior I saw earlier, it’s obvious Sheila was never meant to raise children. I reach for Edwina’s hand and lace our fingers together. But this female… She would be a great mother—loving and protective. Everyone isn’t meant to be parents, but if my angel wants kids, I’ll find a way to give them to her. She’s worth the effort.
Edwina continues without commenting on my ex. “So ya think it’s impossible to get rid of the PFC?”
“Yeah, I do,” Tyson admits. “Duchamp is powerful, and the PFC has a lot of backers with deep pockets.”
“Well, I don’t care about his supporters or him. I’m affiliated with something a helluva lot stronger than Duchamp and his minions.”
The three of us continue the ride in silence. Every now and then, I glance over at Edwina. I need some time alone with her. She doesn’t have to tell me she ignored my advice and saw the incubus on her own. I’m feeling her pain, but she’s handling it better than I thought she would. I smile to myself. Maybe I’ve done my job and fucked away my angel’s taste for Cash Martin.
Sirens and honking cars hang in the background for the rest of the drive. In a few miles, Edwina steers the car into a neighborhood of old mansions. She slows down and parks in front of one with a decorative wrought-iron fence.
Edwina kills the motor and faces me. “Let me do the talking, Hank. N’awlins is run by two vampires—Kragen, my former coven leader, and Julien Vladislav, an Ancestor and Morgan’s sire. This house belongs to Kragen. Ya don’t want to fuck with him. He makes Luc Duquette seem like a kitten.”
I squeeze her hand. “No one intimidates me. If you’re asking me to respect him, I can do that.”
She glances over her shoulder. “There’s something else ya should know.”
My brother takes the hint. “Why don’t you let me out? I can make my own introductions. I’ll let them know you’ll be in soon.”
“Thanks.” I exit and let him out of the back seat. I watch him swagger up to the front door before I re-enter the vehicle. “What is it, Angel?”
A thin smile appears on her face and quickly fades away. “I went to see Cash.”
“I figured you did. We’ll talk about it later if you want. What else is on your mind?”
“Ya have to meet Ace. The two of us…” She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “We used to be close. Nothing intimate ever happened between us though.”
“If nothing happened, why tell me?”
“One, I don’t want any secrets between us. Two, ya also will meet his mate. The two of us have never liked one another. I like to let Morgan think something did happen with Ace though,” she admits.
“How about this, Angel? No more games.” I stroke Edwina’s cheek. “If this Morgan asks directly, be honest with her. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, not even me.”
She leans over and kisses my cheek. “Thanks. Let’s get this over with. I want to take ya some place afterward.”
Edwina and I join the others in a living room filled with antique furniture. A tall, angular vampire sits on a wingback chair near a fireplace. Another vampire and a young female sit on a small, uncomfortable-looking sofa. She must be the one called Morgan. The male beside her must be her sire. Reclining on a chair near Morgan is the muscular wolf from earlier. My brother stands before the fireplace. His hands rest on the mantel with his head down, staring into the roaring flames.
The tall vamp scowls in my direction when we get closer. “Edwina, I thought ya might’ve run off.”
“Not hardly.” She tugs on my hand. “Kragen, meet Hank. This is Tyson’s brother.”
“Amongst other things.” Kragen narrows his eyes. “Nice ta meet ya, Detective Richards.”
I shake my head. “I’m nobody’s detective. Gave it up when I left Falls Creek.”
“I understand some trouble has followed ya here.” Kragen steeples his fingers in front of his chest. “Not the kinda welcome I like ta extend ta visitors. Before ya arrived, we were discussing the matter.” The vampire’s voice reminds me of molasses in winter—slow and rich.
The other vamp chimes in. “Let me introduce myself. I am Julien Vladislav, owner of the Bloody Bastard. Kragen and I run this town. Rest assured this problem with the PFC will not continue.”
My eyes dart between the two males. They are like night and day—one the quintessential Southern gentleman and the other an obvious foreigner. I wonder which old country he considers home.
“Romania, Mr. Richards,” Julien says. “I am a direct descendant of the original vampire.”
“Nice to meet you.” I glance around for a chair but don’t see an available one. “I hope this won’t be a long session.”
Dracula’s relative examines me briefly. His gaze goes beyond the arches separating the area from the rest of the room. I turn and see a freakishly tall brother approaching with two chairs. He places them to the side and walks away. Edwina nudges me toward the vacant seats.
The young female speaks up. “I’m Morgan, and this is Ace. We run the BlackGuard. We’re responsible for freeing you and your brother.”
“Thanks,” I say.
“Words mean nothing to us.” She points a finger at my lady. “Edwina will be helping us out for a time. The rogue problem has gotten out of hand in Crescent City. We could use your skills as well.” The vamp’s gaze lands on me. “We’d consider it an act of gratitude in light of your rescue.”
The young hybrid doesn’t have to say it. The meaning is clear to everyone in the room. I glance over at Tyson. Well, he might be the only one who doesn’t get it.
“What’s the plan for dealing with the PFC?” Edwina starts. “There’s a fight tomorrow.”
“My pack will put a stop to it. I’ve got a few wolves tailing Ryder and Duchamp. They’ll report the location of the fight to us,” Ace says.
“It’s going to take more than a few wolves to stop Ryder,” I tell him.
“My men can be quite persuasive,” the alpha adds.
Kragen snaps his fingers, and the tall brother appears again. “Baldovino, please show young Mr. Richards ta his quarters. Edwina, ya should remember how ta get ta ya room.”
She stands and pulls me to my feet. “I do, but we’re going out. We’ll be back in a few hours.”
“Ace, send a few men—”
Edwina shakes her head. “No, Kragen. This is something I need to do on my own. Hank is all I need.”
The tall vamp nods and pushes himself to his feet. “Then allow me ta say good ev’ning.”
I face the coven leader with my hand extended. He studies it for a moment before accepting the gesture. “Thanks for your help.”
“I’m sure ya will repay the kindness,” he says and leaves the room.
My flesh crawls as my mind constructs the possibilities. None of them desirable.