Unleashed by Shadows (By Moonlight Book 10) (6 page)

Rico snorted. “If you’re gonna cry like a little baby about it, we’ll give you some privacy.”

Cale grinned at his irreverence and was about to reply in kind when the door opened.

Silas MacCreedy found himself skewered by a trio of deadly glares. He ignored them to address Cale in an impatient tone. “We have business to take care of.”

“What kind of business?” Colin demanded.

Silas’s quick glance dismissed him. “Like I said. None of yours.” Then to Cale, a curt, “Let’s go.”

Surprisingly, it was Kendra who objected. “We were about to find a hotel.”

“Don’t register under your own names. Make sure you remember his is Mick Terry when you get the room. Leave a message for him at the desk with a key.”

Kendra shrugged off her cousin’s cautious dismissal. “Your business can wait until he has a chance to clean up.”

“He’s fine the way he is. Are you coming, Cale?”

Not for a while, unfortunately. Cale smiled faintly at his indignant queen. He leaned in to touch his lips to the tip of her nose, then looked to his brothers. “Get her settled in someplace nice.” Someplace safe was understood. To a frowning Kendra, he added, “I’ll call when Silas and I are finished so you can get the shower hot for me.”

She glared at her cousin as she told her mate, “I’ll expect you to be in one piece when we share it.”

“I’ll take extra care of the pieces you like best,” Cale promised. When he turned her toward him, he found her stare fierce and arousing as hell.

“You take care of all of them, Cale Terriot.”

“Yes, my queen.”

He settled in for a slow, heart-stirring kiss. Then he was on his feet charging his brothers to take care of her.

And of Silas, Kendra commanded, “You take care of him.” Or we’re going to tangle, her narrowed eyes conveyed.

“The only trouble he gets into is the trouble he makes for himself,” Silas amended.

“Then see he doesn’t make any.”

A half-smile. “I’ll do my best.”

“I still don’t trust him,” Rico grumbled once the door closed behind MacCreedy and his king.

“Cale can take care of himself.” Kip challenged them to deny it. When no one did, he decided for all of them, “Let’s find someplace to set up and lay low.”

“That’s not quite what I had in mind, little brother,” Rico laughed. “If I wanted that, I’d have stayed home. Why don’t we see if that tall, dark and delicious creature at the bar has any ideas?”

Kendra chuckled. “Her idea for you would be a body bag.”

The others laughed at Rico’s expense, but Kendra agreed with his logic. Nica would know a place where the three Terriot princes could be tucked away and amused without endangering her husband’s plans.

Then all she had to do was worry about her mate’s safe return.

CHAPTER FOUR

“I’m sorry. I have no use for someone like you.”

Casper Lee made the remark casually, refilling his glass with the wine he’d been sipping when they arrived at the Hermes Grill.  He’d picked one of the tall tables near the bar where shadows lay heavy, away from the doors standing open to the late afternoon bustle on the sidewalk outside. The atmosphere of dark, heavy elegance matched his somber mood.

Cale and Silas exchanged quick glances.

“What does that mean exactly?” Silas asked, but Cale was very afraid this was about his little drama in the ring the night before.

Lee smiled without amusement. “Oh, I think you know, exactly.”

“You’re the one who told me to dazzle the crowd.”

That icy stare fixed on Cale. “To engage them, yes. To break the rules of the game, no. To endanger the illusion that it’s all an illusion, no. I had hoped things would work out, but I’m afraid I’d just be wasting my time and money to continue with this relationship. You’re a wild card, Mr. Terry. There’s no place for you in my plans. Good day.”

Cale blinked, looking to Silas to rescue the situation. He was quick to intercede with a careful not to sound too anxious argument.

“Last night was an unfortunate miscalculation,” he agreed, glaring at his fighter. “It won’t happen again.”

“No. It won’t. Not with me.”

Cale intuited what MacCreedy didn’t express aloud.

Shit. Shit shit shit!

“He’s impulsive,” Silas continued doggedly. “He’s hard to control. Sometimes, he’s a showboating idiot.” A sudden, hard slap to the side of his head had Cale rearing back. “But he’s a damn fine fighter. With you to smooth his rough edges, he could be one of the best. The crowd loves him. He’ll toe the line from here on. I guarantee it.”

Lee sighed. “What he may or may not be is no longer of any interest to me. I was very clear on what I expected from the both of you. I won’t change my mind. I don’t have time for bad investments. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to order.”  He put up a manicured hand to wave over his waiter.

Silas gripped Cale’s arm, jerking him off the tall stool, shoving him outside into the harsh sunlight. Cale pulled up to look back inside, where Lee smiled up at the young man taking his meal order. Desperate thoughts scrambled.

“That went well,” Silas began, but Cale cut him off.

“Stay here.”

MacCreedy scowled at him. “Let it go, Cale. We gambled. We lost.”

“Not yet.”

Lee ignored his presence while completing his instructions for the care and treatment of his Kobe beef. Finally, when the young man left the table, taking the menu and Lee’s appreciative stare with him until he disappeared into the kitchen, the pale eyes turned to Cale in thinly veiled irritation.

“Don’t sit down. This conversation is over, Mr. Terry.”

“Not yet.”

“Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear enough. I’m not interested in anything you have to say, or in you.”

“Yes, you are.”

An assessing stare stroked from head to toe before he proclaimed with bored indifference, “Pretty, nicely muscled, sweaty men are a cash crop here in New Orleans, Mr. Terry. There’s nothing special about you.”

Cale allowed a faint smile. “Now who’s not being honest?”

Lee’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll admit to finding you vaguely entertaining and,” another quick once over, “distracting, but I don’t care to have my authority challenged.”

Cale’s smile widened, showing teeth. “Yes, you do. Very little challenges you. That’s why you like me.”

Lee turned back to his wine glass. “You flatter yourself.”

“Not without cause, and we both know it.”

“That may have been true at first, but titillating bad behavior and foolish rebellion in full view of my constituents are not the same thing. I don’t do high maintenance. Go away, Mr. Terry. You have nothing I want.”

“That’s not true.” He took a risk and grabbed Lee’s forearm just as he was lifting the glass to his lips. “Let me prove it to you.”

A frigid stare focused on that hand until Cale removed it. Casper leisurely sipped, savored his mouthful in an almost sexual manner then swallowed before meeting Cale’s steady gaze. “How do you plan to do that?”

“By showing you what I can really do for you.”

Lee studied him for a long moment before asking, “How?”

Cale took a seat to begin his persuasive argument. He couldn’t mistake the way Casper’s nostrils flared as he leaned in close. Or the insinuating tip of his tongue sweeping the moist vintage from his lower lip. “Let me be what you know I can become. We’re wasting our time in the penny ante league. Put me in the big show.”

“Have you been bored, Mr. Terry?” The smooth drawl gave nothing away. “Is that the problem? Not enough to keep you amused?”

“Not enough to keep me fed,” he burst out. “I can’t afford to risk everything and bring in nothing.”

“Expensive habits?” His narrowed gaze jumped to the tall Shifter standing on the sidewalk, his indifference slipping. “Is Creed one of them?” When Cale didn’t answer, Casper frowned, continuing in a testy tone. “Why would I choose to give you my attention when there are many more deserving? Who will do what I ask without question and in a much more obliging manner?”

“You need me.”

Lee said nothing.

“I need you!” he burst out with a raw sincerity. “I owe him.” His head jerked toward MacCreedy. “Until I can clear my debts, I’ll never be free. I’ll never be my own man. I need what you can give me.”

“And what’s that?”

“My life back.” Words choked up on the degree of truth they held. All the bluster and bravado fell away. “I need this job. I need this chance. I’ll do anything you say. What can I do? How can I make it right? Tell me. Please.”

Voice whisper soft, Casper mused, “Honesty at last. A good start.”

*

Cale blew by Silas on the sidewalk without a glance or a word. He’d gotten the length of the block before a restraining hand caught his elbow.

“Hey? Hey!”

Cale allowed himself to be wrestled to a stop, but he refused to acknowledge MacCreedy with a glance.

“What happened?”

“We’re in.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.” He pulled free and began to walk briskly, ignoring Silas when he fell in step.

“What did you have to promise him?”

“What difference does it make?”

“I don’t know. Depends on what it is.”

“Nothing you’re on the hook for. I blew it. I took care of it.”

“Cale—”

He turned to MacCreedy, eyes hard, voice rough. “You got your shot. He wants to discuss the particulars tomorrow night. It’s a party. Formal. He wants Nica there, too. He’s going to text me the address. Let’s get this done so I can get the hell back to my own life and out of yours.”

Silas studied him carefully, seeing only what Cale allowed—his anger, his frustration, his relief. But not his misgivings.

“You’re not taking Kendra with you, are you?”

Cale pounded him with a glare. “Are you nuts? She’s not getting within a square mile of him.”

“And you’re going to convince her of that, how?”

“I’ll have to find some kind of distraction.”

“Good luck.”

“Also my problem, not yours.”

Cale’s phone chimed. He glanced at the screen. An address on Canal Street.

“Gotta go. My room’s ready. I need to swing by Babineau’s to pick up my stuff.” The belongings that fit behind the seat of his motorcycle, when at home, he had a walk-in closet that could easily clothe a board room.

“Need a ride?”

“I can make my own way.”

Wearily, Silas shook his head. “I’m parked right there. Don’t be an ass.”

Cale was tired. The weight of their entire, crazy plan pressed down upon shoulders still aching from a hard day’s work, upon a heart heavy with all he’d promised to so many. “Sure,” he muttered at last. “Thanks.”

One small compromise that would get him where he needed to be that much sooner.

*

The sight of a weary, sweat-stained working man didn’t raise a single high-class eyebrow from the staff of The Saint on Canal, but as Cale strode across the pale hardwood floor toward a desk beneath two mammoth gold cupids, the other guests regarded him with something akin to horror.

“How may I help you, sir?”

Cale admired the man for not only holding his polite smile, but for not crinkling his nose. “You have a message for me. Mick Terry.”

“Yes, Mr. Terry.”  An envelope was produced containing a room card. “Do you need any assistance with your bags?”

Cale hoisted his duffle. “Thank you, but I think I can manage. Which way?”

He slumped in the elevator. What were his brothers thinking getting such posh accommodations?  The eight-story boutique hotel screamed exclusive wealth. He’d talk some sense into them later. But first, that shower.

The Archangel Lucifer Suite?

He raised an eyebrow upon opening the door into a red, black and gold den of hedonistic luxury.  Floor-to-ceiling windows hung with red velvet drapes featured pull down shades picturing faintly naughty images. Dramatically modern black leather seating, red poufs, gold and glass tables, a glossy red and burgundy tray ceiling, and 60-inch flat screen mated with old brick and Victorian antique touches. And there was nothing the least bit subtle about a high-tech sound system, sleek tiled stage, mirror ball, and stripper pole. A bachelor party wet dream come true. He caught sight of Rico’s jacket and groaned. Great. The place would be a drive-thru for drunken, uninhibited females, and only one he longed to spend intimate time with.

He opened bedroom door number one to see Rico’s belongings tossed upon the massive king bed. So that left the grand prize behind Door Number Two.

A second king bed sat against an oversized tufted headboard, invitingly draped with Egyptian cotton sheets and shiny brocaded black satin. A rope of red LED lights outlined its black platform like a landing strip atop a sea of plush red carpet. One of the drawn window shades featured shapely legs clad in seamed stockings and black stilettos with sleek red soles, reminding him of Charlotte Caissie. Hanging pendent lights cast an inviting glow upon red marbled walls. But, all that sexy ambiance couldn’t distract his attention from the clear, plate glass wall dividing bedroom from bathroom.

White privacy curtains were pulled back to reveal a modern black vanity with two vessel sinks lined in red. High end toiletries and stacks of fluffy white towels sat between them. Black, white-veined Carrera marble walls and floor reflected a mammoth chandelier. A huge gold-footed black tub stood at an angle so all he could see was the top of a tousled blonde head above its curled lip. As he stared, too dazed to even breathe, one slender leg rose, trailing water and bubbles.

His bag hit the floor. Boots kicked free, followed in quick succession by pants and shirt.

Soft scents of vanilla and warm female enveloped Cale when he opened the glass door. He could see her profile, skin flushed from the heat, eyes gently closed, tendrils of damp hair sticking to neck and brow. Even knowing her taste, the intimate feel and fit of her in his arms, the reality of her belonging to him nearly dropped him to his knees.

What had he ever done in his short, necessarily violent life to deserve just looking at her, let alone possessing her? He dragged in a ragged breath.

“Room for one more?”