Only After Dark The Boxed Set Books 1 - 4: Shifters Forever Worlds (26 page)

L
ion shifter Mason Martinez
has history with Evangeline, the curvy sexy tigress sister of Lézare Arceneaux.

For Mason, it’s not history. Except that Evie hates him. She’s hated him since college, when they split up.

Evie has no problem burying things—usually. So why can’t she bury her feelings for Mason Martinez?

Permanently.

Now the two of them are missing. Find out what happens when an Arceneaux goes missing!

E
vie shoved
her sunglasses into her purse and stepped onto the bus in the driveway of Arceneaux Point. She bit back a curse word.

Her favorite thing to do when pissed?

Curse.

And foot stomping, or so her siblings said. She usually did the foot stomping thing when she wanted to release a few choice curse words but was trying to be respectful.

She had the reputation of being the most impetuous of the Arceneaux siblings, and though Alexa may have favored Celine Arceneaux—their great-great-grandmother, wife to Étienne—in the looks department, Evie had Celine’s temperament.

Evie, Evangeline Arceneaux, was one of three white tigress shifters of the Arceneaux clan of New Orleans, Louisiana. The three tigresses had an older brother, Lézare, also a white tiger shifter.

Arceneaux Point stood on a former plantation, originally owned by the man who’d held their father’s people as slaves long before Evie’s great-great-grandfather Étienne could pass.

Étienne, who married Celine, had built a life for himself far from Louisiana, never uttering words of his slave heritage, thereby allowing his white gene pool to dictate the course of his life and the path of today’s Arceneaux clan.

Evie’s great-great-grandfather Étienne had been one of the rare shifters who wasn’t born a shifter. She’d heard the stories and knew the Arceneaux history was steeped in rumor, and many of the rumors held truth. Étienne had been turned. How he was turned was a secret Étienne carried to his grave.

Étienne never planned to fall for a descendant of the man who’d been the plantation owner. Étienne fell in love with Celine. Her father gave her hand away thinking Étienne was a Northerner, never knowing the truth.

The old man died without learning that Étienne was not only a former slave, but also a descendant of his own ancestors. He never found out that Étienne had left decades ago after being turned into a shifter in the swamps of Louisiana.

That former slave had become the owner and the patriarch of a formidable set of shifters at Arceneaux Point.

Evie did know that Étienne escaped after he was turned, making a life for himself in the North and returning many years later as a wealthy, successful, and unmated shifter.

Étienne had two goals when he returned. The first was to eradicate the bloodline of those who’d held his people as slaves. The second was to take over their home.

And that was how the Arceneaux home—Arceneaux Point—became what it was now. A home for shifters, ones that operated mostly above the law, but on occasion they did engage in matters that weren’t fully legal.

This discovery was in the records that Lézare kept in the library. Records of Arceneaux pirates. Shifters who’d taken to the sea to support the plantation after Étienne returned and made sure the scourge of slavery was banished from Arceneaux Point.

From the time Étienne returned, to this very day, the Arceneaux clan controlled territory east of Houston and west of Florida and maintained order and security for shifters in the area.

This was not to say other preternatural creatures didn’t step foot in the territory, for they did. Some of those creatures were types familiar to the family, and some not. Most were not welcome, and inevitably, conflict arose when the two crossed paths.

Evie didn’t need to worry about that conflict. There was only one that concerned her.

Her damned older brother Lézare had invited her ex to Escape Weekend. Escape Weekend was sacred to the Arceneaux. It was the celebration of Étienne’s escape from Arceneaux Point and the celebration of his homecoming.

And fucking Lézare has ruined it for me.
Evie fumed.

A day later, and still she fumed. Escape Weekend officially started yesterday, but she’d been fuming ever since she found out
he
would be there.

She heard her hunky and hot lion shifter ex, Mason Martinez, wasn’t coming. Then she saw him at the cocktail party. And things went downhill from there.

The weekend went south so fast, you’d have thought it was shot out of a damned slingshot.

One minute she was getting ready to enjoy the cocktail party, maybe even get her flirt on—something she hadn’t done since she and Mason split—and fuck if that wasn’t in college—ages ago.

And the next damned minute, Mason fucking Martinez, hot as fuck, sex on a stick, walks in like he owns the damned room.

Evie could have sworn every single female in the room wanted him. She could see hips swaying, lips being licked, eyelashes fluttering.

She’d whirled on Lézare, ready to draw blood, even if she did adore her big brother. Except Lézare looked as stunned about seeing Mason as she did.

She wasn’t buying that shit. Lézare may be surprised, but he was the one who invited Mason Martinez to Arceneaux Point for Escape Weekend.

That began Evie’s seclusion. She locked herself in her room, refused to come out, refused to eat, wouldn’t bathe, wouldn’t answer the door no matter how many times Alexa or Maylene knocked.

T
he morning after
, Veila Tiero’s voice brought Evie out of bed and to her bedroom door. She opened for her cousin Veila.

Veila looked well put together, not a hair out of place, fresh makeup, pressed clothing.

A sideways glance in the mirror confirmed what Evie looked like. Makeup from last night mostly gone except for the mascara which managed to make her look like a zombie against her pale skin. Her hair was disheveled, her clothes a rumpled mess.

“Hey,” Veila said, thankfully not mentioning Evie’s appearance. “Alexa needs your help. Seems Lézare left, and Valencia hasn’t shown up, and well, you’re the only one who can help her. She needs to stay here and handle things, but the bus tour to New Orleans is this morning.”

“What?” Evie glanced at the clock on her nightstand. “The tour leaves in fifteen minutes. I can’t—” She pointed to the mirror. “Look at me.” Her voice was rising.

Oh God, I sound like a toddler in a beauty pageant.

Veila wasn’t responding. A patient smile was plastered to her face while her fingernails drummed a beat on the jamb of the door she leaned against.

Evie felt guilty immediately. In a big way. But not guilty enough to go. Not if Mason was going to be there.

“I can’t. I don’t want to see Mason.”

Inevitably many of the shifters opted to go on the bus tour because it was usually a hell of a lot of fun.

“What if Mark talks to Mason? Convinces him not to be on the bus.”

Hope and disappointment battled within Evie. Damn, she didn’t want to have him there with her, it was too painful, but at the same time she didn’t want him to be around all the shifter females that stayed behind. She was sure that someone would offer to keep Mason company, perhaps even horizontally.

Her stomach turned sour at the idea of Mason being with another woman.

She clutched at her tummy as it heaved. Why did the idea of Mason being with someone else make her feel like she was on a small boat in turbulent waters?

She hated that.

No, she hated him.

She did.

She told herself that daily. Every time a sunset reminded her of one they’d shared. Every time a bit of New York cheesecake brought back memories of the times he’d come over late at night to “study” and brought Evie her favorite dessert.

Her nose burned with the need to cry. Her eyes itched, threatening to fill with tears. She turned away from Veila so she wouldn’t witness her weakness.

Who cares about him anyway?

He’s a bastard.

She stared out the front window, noticed the charter bus idling near the marble staircase that led to the front door. The driveway was almost eclipsed by the size of the bus.

Evie released a deep breath and turned to face Veila. “Give me a few moments to get changed.”
Damn, no time for a shower.

Veila nodded, totally poised, completely composed.

No wonder she was the alpha female for the Tieros. She definitely wore the position well.

Unlike me.

The spoiled bratty Arceneaux sister.

Evie knew what they called her behind her back. Hell, Valencia was the baby, but most had always assumed it was Evie because of her brattiness.

Veila closed the door behind her.

Evie sprang into action, grabbing clothes, a floppy hat to hide the mess on top of her head, and a makeup bag so she could do something to make her look a little less like an undead creature. She’d have a while on the bus for makeup repair.

God, I hope I can NOT think about Mason Martinez for a few hours.

S
weat dripped
from Evie’s every pore. She badly wanted to cool her scalp by taking off the floppy hat she’d tugged on her head to hide the bedhead she didn’t have time to wash and style.

Such a hot and muggy morning already. Sometimes she thought she wanted to leave New Orleans. Except she knew she couldn’t. Sure she could study elsewhere, sure she could take business trips, but she could never leave Louisiana for good.

She stepped onto the bus’s first step and looked at the driver. “Thank you for waiting.”

He nodded. “You’re welcome, Ms. Arceneaux. Ms. Alexa not coming this year?”

She shook her head. “I’m filling in for her.”

Guilt ate at Evie for that. She didn’t really need to blame Lézare or Alexa so much about Mason being here. Lézare walked a fine line between juggling her resentment toward Mason and being an alpha in this territory. It would have been unseemly for him not to invite Mason. And Alexa’s defense of Lézare’s logic did make sense, though it, too, royally pissed off Evie.

Technically, Mason Martinez was family now, even if only because his brother was bonded to a distant Tiero cousin. Mason was Mark’s brother, and Mark had taken Veila Tiero as a mate.

So yeah, I guess technically, Lézare did have to invite Mason.

She gritted her teeth at the truth in that realization.

The driver pressed the button to close the door. “We’ll be on our way as soon as you find a seat. The attendants will be out to see if anyone would like refreshments or light pastries for those who might have missed breakfast.”

Hat and sunglasses still on, Evie surveyed the packed bus for a vacant spot, ignoring the empty ones in the front row next to the door. But there didn’t seem to be any vacant seats.

She dropped into the first row and slid to the window, keeping the hat low so she didn’t encourage conversation. Once they were on the road, she’d touch up her face and hair and try not to look like something that crawled out of the bayou.

More than an hour had flown by, the driver announced they weren’t far from the haunted mansion. They’d be returning to tour it after lunch and a walking tour of New Orleans.

Evie had managed some repair to her face, but the mirror said she was still a sad version of herself. She put the sunglasses back on and set the hat in her lap.

“Evie?”

She knew that voice, she snapped her head to the left.

“Kait.”

Kaitlyn Byrne, her college friend and roommate for three semesters was here?

“Lézare didn’t tell me you’d RSVP’d.”

Probably because I was too busy throwing a tantrum about Mason.

“I couldn’t make it last year. I’ll be damned if I’d risk missing the best party on the Gulf Coast two years in a row. But I didn’t know you were here. I looked for you at the cocktail party last night. When I asked Alexa where you were, I swear I thought she gave me a dirty look, then someone came up to talk to her, and she never answered.”

I left in a hissy because I saw Mason there.
Couldn’t say that
.

“I was there at the start, then I was called away.”
By a temper tantrum
.

She knew her siblings would forgive her. She knew Alexa would get it. Alexa had been hurt before.

A curvy brunette with an easy smile, Kait wrapped her arms around her. “I’m glad to see you. Is anyone sitting here?” She dropped into the seat without waiting for an answer.

“You are.”

“So it looks like we’re having lunch at Quake again. Then a walk around New Orleans, then after that, we’re going to the haunted mansion on the way back to Arceneaux Point.” Kait laughed, then leaned in conspiratorially. “As if a shifter would be afraid of a little ol’ ghost.”

Quake was a large restaurant, three stories tall, with different themes on each floor, with segregated rooms. But the patrons who dined at Quake weren’t just anybody—one needed to have reservations and one had to be a supernatural being. Or couplebond mated to one.

Each area was set aside for a different type of supernatural and had a separate entrance so shifters, vampires, witches, and elementals did not cross paths. It was a safe place to have lunch without fear of attack. The rules of Quake were clear.

There was only one true rule.

No fighting between types, species, or individuals.

Or else.

No one had tested the “or else” part in almost one hundred fifty years.

That time didn’t end so well. The original Quake had to be rebuilt after that set of circumstances. And no one would discuss the details of those circumstances or anything else that was specific to the establishment.

“I haven’t been to Quake since I was a teenager. That was always Alexa’s part of the hostess duty for Escape Weekend. And we weren’t allowed to go unless it was Escape Weekend or we were escorted.” Evie grimaced. “Lézare’s rules.”

Kait pushed a lock behind her ear. “I’m sure he just wants to keep his sisters safe. I remember how he was when you were in college.”

“Yeah, I don’t think he’ll ever stop being bossy.”

“He’s pretty dreamy.” Kait sighed.

“Ew. That’s my older brother.” Evie shuddered as if she were grossed out—okay, truth be told, she was. She couldn’t bear to think of Lézare in that way.

“Don’t worry. I got over my schoolgirl crush on him. Anyway, he seemed pretty distracted by some lady he was watching at the cocktail party.”

“Lézare? Lézare Arceneaux? Are you sure we’re talking about my big brother?”

“Sexy, coffee-with-plenty of-cream skin, full lips, eyes that make you want to drop your panties?”

“Ew. Ew. Ewwwww.” More shuddering. “For fuck’s sake, Kaitlyn. Quit.”

“Okay, okay.” Kait held her hands up in surrender. She switched subjects. “No one seems to know more about Quake. Got any information on that place?”

“No. And the people that run it don’t like idle speculation. It’s a good way to lose your privileges of attending.”

“Like how would they know?”

“No clue.” Evie shrugged. “But I’ve heard stories.”

Kait leaned in, light blue eyes glimmering. “Know what else?” She looked around as if to make sure no one was listening in.

Behind her sunglasses, Evie cocked a brow. “Do tell.”

“Mason Martinez is here.”

“Yeah, I know. I heard he was at the cocktail party.”

“Not the party, silly. The bus. I wondered why you decided to come too.”

Arctic water ran through Evie’s veins.

No, he’s not.

He can’t be.

She swallowed a chunk of the Sahara. “Are you sure?”

Kait pursed her lips. “You think I don’t know Mason Martinez? After all the nights he spent at our place, you think I don’t know him?”

“Shhh. Lower your voice.”
Jeez. Does she have to announce it?

“Sorry.” Kait was back to whispering.

Thank goodness for sunglasses. They would hide her disgust with the idea that Mason was on the bus.

I need to get off the bus now.

She couldn’t breathe. Her lungs had frozen. Evie put her hand to her throat.

“Are you okay?” Kait’s eyes widened. “You’re pale.”

Evie glanced out the window, watched the scenery go by, but didn’t process it. Fields, marshes, flatland, it all looked the same. She bit her lower lip, chewed on it, then tasted blood.

“Oh, my.” Of course Kait had scented Evie’s bloody lip. She was a shifter too, after all.

Kait put a hand over Evie’s shoulder, a tissue caught between her fingers. “Use this. Staunch that. Every shifter on here will know what’s going on if you don’t get control. Your pulse, your scent, the blood.” Kait’s voice broke slightly. “Oh, Evie, I had no idea you hadn’t moved on.”

How the hell can I move on? I can’t even think of anything else but him.

Except now her memories of Mason were overshadowed by one solitary heartbreaking image.

“Cassidy’s probably wondering if I’m coming back. Hang out with you at the haunted mansion?”

“I didn’t know your sister was with you.” Evie hadn’t seen Cassidy in years. “Sure. We’ll catch up later.”

Her mind wandered as the countryside slid by.

Memories of that time filled her mind. There’d been nothing else that mattered to her the way Mason did. Until he’d shattered her heart, and with it, her entire world. A bolt of pain perforated her heart. She couldn’t get over him. She’d never get over him.

And she’d never love another man. She was over it.

Over men.

She closed her eyes against the pain and thought of their first time together at Escape Weekend.