The Lost Soul Trilogy (Primani Book 5) (21 page)

Determined to follow, Sean broke into a jog. We cleared the corner and kept straight. I scanned the area for… whatever we were following. I didn’t see anything, but Sean must have. We nearly knocked a homeless man down a flight of stairs when he staggered in front of us. After several blocks of twists and turns, I still didn’t see any sign of a person or anything else that casts a shadow. Sean must have been stumped too because he moved more cautiously along the dark, narrow street. Dead end. We were far away from the sounds of the city. The silence was eerie as we considered our options. A cat screamed from a dumpster, and I jumped. Marinara sauce sloshed unpleasantly in my stomach. Friggin’ wildlife! Snow piles against the back entrances of the dark brick buildings glowed in the pale moonlight. As I caught my breath, faint sounds of music came from someplace ahead of us.

The thumping of drums was muffled but distinct as we came to the end of the alley. A steep set of concrete steps led down into a set of dark metal storm doors. One of the doors had a tiny window cut into it. The other was chained shut at the top. The metal railing was hanging loose halfway down the steps and didn’t look safe. Several sets of shoes had packed the snow into unfriendly ice. One word was spray painted across the brick lintel. In neon green letters, someone had defined this space as Dump. It seemed to fit.

“I don’t know, Sean. This looks sketchy to me…” I didn’t feel good about this place. It seemed… well, seedy. Yes, seedy was the right word. Probably, I was overdressed.

Sean, being Sean, just smiled reassuringly and told me to relax. He didn’t sense any demons, and he could always handle any human problems that came up. I was still dragging my feet when I heard her. The woman sang with a raw intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. The words were muffled, but the powerful voice wasn’t diminished by brick and concrete.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” I slid most of the way to the bottom of the steps and dusted my butt off while Sean pulled the door open.

Dump was a dark little place that had probably never seen better days. Most of the fluorescent lights were burned out. A tiny strobe light flickered sadly in one corner. It smelled like stale beer and mildew. The music stopped abruptly when we walked in. My ears rang as one last discordant chord fell away. Everyone stared at us, including the band. The band, and it was an actual band, was set up in a little space off to the right. There wasn’t room for a proper stage, but someone shoved a handful of rickety tables to the side, and the musicians squeezed into the space. The five musicians gave us the hairy eyeball or balls since there were five of them. Well, mostly they glared at Sean who unconsciously projected violence as he assessed the room. The female singer gave him a long appraising look that made me grind my teeth. Really, wench? I sighed and pulled my purse closer to my hand in case I needed my Sig. She’d have a hard time pulling off those high notes with a bullet through her chest. Yeah. That would fix the problem. I smiled the feral smile I’d seen on Killian’s face so many times. The woman suddenly found something else to do.

A peeling, paneled bar with three ancient wooden stools was the centerpiece of the room. The neon beer signs were mostly dead with random letters still glowing like fireflies on the wall. The bartender was a huge hairy man that reminded me of an old biker. He wore a faded blue bandana over his head and had bushy black hair and a long greying beard. Someone had put some small braids in his beard. He had tiny little eyes that were swallowed up in the fatty creases of his face. These piggy eyes watched us now. He didn’t look friendly to me, but Sean didn’t seem alarmed. He simply returned the appraisal and waited. Easy for him, he’s got superpowers… I stood closer to him and tried to look cynical.

The bartender hollered over to us, “Hey! Don’t stand there with the door open. It’s cold enough in here.”

That was about as much of an invitation as we would probably get. We both relaxed and made our way to a small table that looked sturdy enough to hold a beer. Nervous, I fiddled with my purse strap. There were other people sitting around, and they were looking us over with varying degrees of interest. Sean bent over and kissed me hard on the mouth. Grinning, he turned around and went to the bar. I caught one of the musician’s eyes and flushed. He gave me a knowing look and downed a shot of something. He licked his lips and saluted me with the glass. Fuming, I waited for
my hero
to return. Marking his territory! Why doesn’t he just pee on my leg? Ugh. Men! 

The band picked up their instruments to play again, and I’m sure the 15 people listening appreciated it as much as I did. Wow! I was completely blown away. The singers put their hearts into every song, and the drummer and guitar players were every bit as talented as any professional group I’d heard. Occasionally they’d pause and work on some dance move or re-do a piece of a song that wasn’t exactly right. They had too much heart for this dive, but I guess everyone starts somewhere. One of the singers, the guy who gave me the look earlier, directed everything. I wondered how much Red Bull he slammed before the show. Taking his job as front man very seriously, he introduced the band as if they were performing in a packed arena.

Standing on a chair with a mic, he boomed, “How’s everyone doing tonight?” This was met with silence. I felt bad for him.

Undaunted, he continued, “We appreciate your hanging out with us! We are RockHard! and we’re going to party with you tonight. My name is Aiden, and this is the beautiful and talented Missy Devoux. Come on, people! Let’s do a shot!” People clapped and whooped weakly.

Each member of the band bowed and played up their introductions. I was impressed. They had spirit, for sure. Aiden was interesting to watch. He didn’t just
sing
the lyrics; he
performed
them. What was he doing
here
? He should be on Broadway.

Missy was covering Lady GaGa’s song “Bad Romance.” The power in her throaty voice was stunning. How did she get stuck in this Dump? I looked over at Sean, and said, “Wow!”

Since he was watching the door the whole time, he missed the visuals, but he couldn’t miss the sound. He smiled at my enthusiasm and agreed with me. I was totally into a guitar solo when Sean tensed at the table, and whispered into my ear, “Don’t look. We’ve got company.”

“Where?” I swiveled in my chair to see what he was talking about.

Sean spun me back around, hissing, “Are you deaf? Go to the bathroom and wait for me. Try not to shoot anyone unless you’re really in trouble.” I bristled at his bossy tone but did as he ordered. We’d talk about this later.

The smell of urine slapped me in the face as soon as I opened the door. Gagging, I sucked in my breath. There’s no way I could stay in here for more than 20 seconds. That’s approximately how long I could hold my breath. Apparently functional plumbing wasn’t in the budget and neither was Lysol. This place was disgusting. A minute later, the woman from the band joined me.

As way of greeting, she said simply, “This place is a hole.”

Wow, she was tiny. I was at least six inches taller than her, and I’m not very tall. Despite the freezing weather, she wore a long black skirt with ripped fishnet tights. The skirt was shredded and floated away from her whenever she moved. I was totally checking it out when she was performing. Underneath, she wore a pair of black cowboy boots. The heels on those boots gave her some illusion of height. At the moment, she was finger combing her hair in the mirror while checking me out from the corner of her eye. Seeming to make up her mind about something, she asked casually, “So, is that your man out there?”

Well, yes and no. Oh, he was mine all right. But he wasn’t
technically
a man. I didn’t think she’d understand so I just said yes and casually patted my purse. The shape of the gun was barely visible.

Unconcerned, she shrugged a shoulder, and said, “As soon as you came in here, some blond bitch pulled him outside. I thought you might want to know.”

Feigning a coolness I didn’t feel, I said, “Really? Thanks. By the way, your band is fabulous. What’s the name again?”

Her pretty face brightened at the compliment, and she gushed, “RockHard! Our name is RockHard!”

Chapter 21: Fear of Change

“YOU COULD'VE AT LEAST WARNED ME! How could you do that to me?
That’s
our contact?” I wasn’t even trying to keep my voice down. A light came on in a second floor window next door.

Sean hushed me for the third time and dragged me behind a parked car. “We can talk about this back at the penthouse. Hold onto me.” He wrapped both arms around me, and I elbowed him in the gut. I was in no mood for cuddling.

“Let go! I’m done talking to you.” I started off down the alley in a huff.

At the same time, a window screeched open above us, and a man stuck his head out, yelling, “Hey! What are you doing with my car?” Accompanying the yelling was the unmistakable sound of someone ratcheting a shot gun.

Things happened quickly then. The sound of the shotgun blast echoed in my ears as Sean grabbed me with both hands and threw me to the ground behind the car. I sucked in my breath as we vanished into thin air. We landed hard on the marble foyer in the penthouse. Sean broke our fall so I landed sprawled on top of him. He grunted with the impact and clapped a hand hard over my mouth to stop my screaming. I looked wildly around and then calmed down when I saw where we were. He didn’t remove his hand though.
Clearly
, he was unhappy with me. Well, that was too bad. I wasn’t happy with him either. With absolutely no regret whatsoever, I bit his hand until he started swearing and let go. I was in the middle of scrambling off of him when boots came running into the room. I looked up into several pairs of amused male eyes. I looked down and to see I was straddling Sean’s waist with both knees and one hand was pressed against his groin.

“It’s not what it looks like!” I blushed to the roots of my hair.

Killian swept his eyes from the top of our heads to the tips of our toes and settled on my hand on Sean’s crotch, and asked, “What do you think we think it looks like, exactly?”

I jerked my hand away like it was on fire.

Dec gave Sean a thumbs up. Sean’s response was a smirk--the jerk! Jordan and Alex observed from the back of the room and wisely said nothing. Sometimes age is a good thing. Dec came over and offered me a hand. After he pulled me up, Sean got stiffly to his feet. Killian whistled with alarm.

To say I was uncomfortable would be an understatement of gigantic proportions. I was lying on my stomach letting my angry boyfriend pick shotgun pellets out of my butt. He wasn’t being very gentle about it either. To make things worse, we had an audience because Alex thought that would be more proper. When forced to choose between Killian and Dec as a chaperone, I picked Dec because I thought he would be more sympathetic. The problem was the only one who had any surgical skills at all was Killian. He had some real experience with patching up people on the battlefield. He offered to take out the pellets, but Sean flatly refused. He would do it, and Killian could supervise. So that was the compromise. As a result, my butt cheek was on display, and I was wishing for death. Ouch!

“Dec, she’s doing it again,” Sean observed without sympathy.

Dec was trying hard not to look at me and sidled up to me now with averted eyes. He picked up my hand and rubbed it in between his own. I knew the drill by now. I took a deep breath and forced myself to relax. Drowsy and warm, I dozed off to the sound of his tuneless humming of an Irish folk song.

The next morning I couldn’t get up. I opened my eyes to find Jordan sitting in an armchair beside the bed.

“Good morning, young lady! How’re you feeling this morning?”

“Not horrible but I could use a hand getting up if you don’t mind.”

“Of course! Take my arm.” He offered his arm and pulled me to my feet.

“Where’s Sean? Is he all right?” Why wasn’t he sitting with me?

“Not to worry, he’s in his room recuperating from his own, uh, procedure.”

Oh, Sean! Poor thing. It was my fault he was hurt. We could’ve been killed. As it was, my butt would hurt for a while since Raphael was not here to heal me. Sean could heal himself but still had to go through the pain of having pellets dug out of his back. Killian did the honors, and I’m sure he didn’t sleep through it. He would consider that the easy way out. Probably, he took it in stride… just another day. I remembered the blonde. Growling at the image of her pulling Sean outside, I limped to the bathroom. I hoped he was suffering! Jerk.

A few days later, I was up and around but moving stiffly. Luckily, my body was busily healing itself at a pretty fast rate. We were going back out to Dump tonight. To my chagrin, we were stuck with the blonde. She was an informant who worked with the Primani in the city. She’d been sent to track Sean down because she had information on Dagin. She was supposed to meet us at Dump and give us an update.

The taxi dropped us off a few blocks away. Sean fell into soldier-mode and moved with caution. He seemed to be listening for something as he walked. A wave of dread assaulted me as we turned the corner. I held my breath to listen. It was quiet here… too quiet… unnaturally quiet. I strained to see into the shadows but saw nothing out of the ordinary. My intuition was growing. Maybe I could use it to sense the bad guys. I scrunched my eyes and tried to sense them. A muffled snort from Sean interrupted my concentration.

“Seriously?” He was biting his lip trying not to laugh.

“What?” I looked down my nose at him and scowled.

He shook his head at me and kept moving.

Muffled music greeted us when we reached the stairway to Dump. A small cloud of cigarette smoke wafted out the door as we walked inside. It was crowded tonight. Every table was full, and there were people standing beside the battered wooden bar. I looked around but didn’t see any blond bitches so I guess our informant wasn’t there yet. RockHard! was in the middle of a song. Tonight the bass player was strutting around in a kilt. Huh. That was different. I nibbled on a fingernail while I pondered the mysteries of the Scottish kilt. Several women were watching with hypnotized eyes as the kilt swung back and forth to the rhythm of the song. I grinned around my hand as I remembered the age old question.

Sean casually leaned against the wall near a subwoofer. I casually leaned against him. This spot gave us the best vantage point for watching the door. He pretended to enjoy the band and occasionally nuzzled me or did something else obviously affectionate in case anyone was looking. As far as anyone knew, we were just two young people out for a good time. Why we chose Dump for it is a mystery someone should have questioned. I envied Sean’s ability to multi-task. He was completely focused on the door while idly running one hand up and down my thigh. He was taut and hot against me. He practically vibrated with suppressed energy. I had asked him about these physical changes at the penthouse today. He shrugged and said it was part of their bodies’ preparation for combat. The flight or fight response was stronger in the Primani body so every physical change was magnified.

“Flight response?” I prodded.

He scoffed, “Yeah, but we don’t use that one. Primani never run from a fight.”

After an hour or so, the door opened and in walked the blonde. She was a tall woman with hair that fell in a straight line to her shoulders. Based on the shadowy roots, I assumed the color wasn’t hers. She was wearing tight black jeans with vinyl boots and a fitted black vinyl coat that came to her knees. She looked like a licorice stick.

Sean ran his lips across my ear. Little jolts of electricity trickled from my neck to my toes. I involuntarily arched against him like a cat, my fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck. Still nibbling on me, he purred, “Focus, darlin’! It’s just for show.” He raised a lazy hand, and the blonde moved our direction. It was time to get to work.

Much, much later that night, I stood on the balcony, mesmerized. The lights of the city sparkled and winked for as far as my eyes could see. It was the witching hour, and I was in a mystical mood. Determined to get a leash on my new psychic abilities, I was secretly experimenting whenever I was alone. Right now, I was attempting to see into the building across from ours. It would be useful if I could sense people or demons this way. I had a theory but needed to gather more data. Pushing away all thoughts, I inhaled slowly, deeply. I visualized my mind as a large airy room that was empty of everything but delicate cream walls. It was my blank canvas. My mind was drifting towards the closest window when warm arms wrapped around me. Images of him filled my entire mental room. With a small sense of satisfaction, I realized I had felt him coming. Not just a
person
coming, but I knew without doubt, that it was Sean.

“Come here, beautiful.” Standing behind me, he fitted me against his erection and lifted my hair to expose my neck. As his tongue stroked the tender skin, I arched against him, wanting only to be closer, to be naked beside him.

His skin was so hot that I peeled off the blanket I was wrapped in. Underneath I wore only a pair of black yoga pants and a pale silk tank. He swept his tongue along my collarbone and up my throat, and I began to burn… literally. Suddenly feverish, my skin prickled with sweat. My head swam oddly. It wasn’t just the effect of his kisses. This feeling was new. I turned into his arms. Gripping my face in one hand, he kissed me with an urgency that startled me. My heart was skipping beats. I couldn’t seem to breathe right. Lights danced behind my eyes. I tried to pull back, but an odd sense of connection made me stop. I pressed my forehead against his. My heart was still pounding erratically. Without a word, Sean held up our linked hands.

“You’re burning up!” He smiled crookedly as he wiped a bead of sweat off the side of my face.

“Something’s changed. I feel different.” I pulled his hand over and kissed a palm. I rested my chin on our hands and caught my breath.

“You’re changing. It’s you that’s different. It’s been happening for a while. You haven’t noticed until now?”

“I don’t understand.”

“That makes two of us!” He pulled me down to sit beside him. “I wish I knew, but I don’t. I tried to ask Alex, but he didn’t know either. You, love, are uncharted territory for us.”

I pondered this for a minute, and asked, “So what now?”

“Well, we watch and see. There’s no doubt you’re a part of us, Mica. Somehow, you’ve become connected to us, and I think your destiny is woven into ours… and mine, I hope. We don’t have all the answers. But I think you’re changing physically because of the changes in your brain. You’re tapping into new areas… it seems reasonable to me.”

That sort of made sense… I’m using different parts of my brain to use these new abilities, so maybe that’s triggered other changes. Hmmm. That doesn’t really explain the physical connection I felt to Sean just now…

“Do you think I have a halo now?” I perked up at the thought and waited for him to laugh at me.

To my surprise, he didn’t laugh at all. Instead, he looked thoughtful. “I don’t think so. Angels have halos, love. I think you’re something else entirely. I’m stumped.”

“Sean…” I groped for the right words while idly twisting my locket.

I cleared my throat and tried again. “Sean, are you
okay
? I mean, you’ve been stressed, and sometimes I see you staring into space. You seem worried… and sad. Can’t I help?”

He was silent for so long I didn’t think he was going to answer me. Then he walked over to the edge of the balcony. His back was rigid as he stared into the darkness. The breeze ruffled his hair; the vulnerable skin at the nape of his neck gleamed faintly in the moonlight. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and soothe him, but he wouldn’t want it. Instead, I waited with my blanket wrapped around me. Eventually, he let out a breath and started to talk.

“I’m afraid. For the first time in my life, I’m afraid. I don’t know how to stop feeling this way, and it’s making me crazy.” He turned with pain clouding his eyes.

“Fear is a healthy reaction to near-death experiences,” I observed carefully.

“Not for
us
! Primani fear nothing! Look at who we are! Why would I be afraid?” He rolled his shoulders and pushed away from the wall.

“What’s changed then?”

“You! You’re the change…
we
are the change. You and I are… something I can’t even explain to myself. I feel such a connection with you,
to
you, that I know in my heart is
right
.” Instantly, he was in front of me with my hands in his. He held up our joined hands again. “Do you not see it?
We
are more than just chemistry or even love.
We
are something extraordinary.”

Like a mirage, my fingers shimmered and melted into his as if we were one person. He wiggled our hands. The strange image was gone, and we were just two people holding hands again.

“I’ve been seeing that more and more here in the city. When we touch… sometimes I see it.” He scratched absently at the dark stubble on his jaw. “Things are speeding up… our connection is growing, your intuition is getting stronger, your body’s changing… I don’t question these things. I
believe
in predestination. These changes have a purpose, and you and I are meant to be together. I have no doubts about that. But I worry. I’m afraid for you… for us.”