Out of the Dark (Forbidden Love) (15 page)

     The sound of laughter drew his attention and
, the sun temporarily forgotten, he spun around to see where it came from.  Brea was dancing in the very field he was now standing in, wearing a sundress the color of the sunshine.  She smiled at him and crooked her finger, motioning him to come to her.  Angel moved with agonizing slowness to her side.  She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his lips. 

     “
Je ne comprendre pas
,” Angel said in his mother tongue.

     “It’s ok,” she crooned. 

     For some reason, Angel could not control his tongue.  She was heartbreakingly beautiful, and there was so much he needed to tell her.  “
Je t’aime, Je t’adore, Je ne vivre pas sans toi
,” he whispered into her ear.  For whatever reason, he could only speak French.

     Brea tip toed up to kiss his lips again.  “I know,” she said, then turned to leave. 

     “
Attandre!  Comment c’est
….”

     “It is a dream, silly, and now you need to wake up…” Brea called to him from somewhere he could not see.

     Angel opened his eyes.  He could still smell the lavender, he was still very warm.  It had been so long since he felt the sun on his face, so long since he had seen the blue sky as it truly is.  He was loathe to get up.  It was so rare for a vampire to dream, Angel didn’t want to wake up, not yet.  But his senses returned and he realized why he could still smell the flowers.  He was in Brea’s bed.  Alone.   The scent of the bath oil he used for her the night before still clung to the sheets.  He had not meant to sleep there all day.  And somehow, she had risen and left the room without waking him.  And the things he had said to her in the dream.  I love you, I adore you, I cannot live without you.  What would she say if he said those things to her for real?  This little woman whom he couldn’t get out of his head had wiggled her way into his soul.  He then realized that it was more than just the mating instinct at work on him; she had found her way into his heart.  He knew then what he had to do.  Angel grudgingly got up and went to his own room to shower.

     “Well, good evening,” Sebastian said as Angel entered the main hall.  “It’s about time you got your ass out of bed.  That woman is crazy!  She’s been working us like mules.”
  Angel hadn’t meant to sleep late, but he had.  It was nearly six thirty by the time he got downstairs.

     Angel let his eyes roam over the room.  Brea was truly an artist.  She had transformed his main hall into an old 1920’s speakeasy.  The linens were sewn and now draped the walls in generous curves and swags, the bar was shining and being stocked, the tables were being covered with alternating white and forest green cloths.  But Brea was not at any of them.   “Where is she?”

     “Over there, with Gage and Antonio.”

     Angel followed the direction in which Sebastian nodded, and gasped.  Both Brea and Keelie were hanging more drapes on the west wall. 
The problem was, each woman was standing on the outstretched hands of one of his band mates.  “Can we go a little to the left?” he heard Brea ask Gage.  Gage took two steps to the left, balancing Brea on his hands.  She was holding the material in her hands, her mouth was full of pins. Unbidden images of the two women losing their balance and falling to the hard floor flooded Angel’s mind.  Christ, they could be killed, they were only human!

     “What in God’s name are they doing?” Angel gasped.  “Are they insane?” he growled as he stomped in that very direction.  “Um, Gage, Antonio, are you guys sure this is the best way to go about this?” he asked carefully so not to surprise the men.

     “We offered to bring in some ladders, but they said this would do.”

     “I rather enjoy the view,” Antonio said sheepishly.

     “I heard that,” Keelie mumbled around the pins in her mouth.

     “What if they fall?” Angel said.

     “Now, do you really think we would let them fall?” Gage said with a roll of his eyes.

     “Accidents do happen.”

     “Angel,” Brea snapped, “We have only until tomorrow night to get this done.  If you expect this room to accommodate fifty people by the time your guests arrive, then I suggest you let us work.  We are almost done up here.”

     “Better watch that tongue of yours, little miss,” Angel warned.

     “Or else what?” she baited him.

     “Or else I shall snatch it from you,” he growled.

     Unafraid, she retorted, “Yeah, I don’t believe you.  I think you could find far better things to do with my tongue than ‘snatch it from me,’”

     Angel just stood there with his mouth open.  He wanted to shoot back some great smart ass answer, but she was right.  And that made his brain travel in a much different direction.  Growling in frustration, he clenched his fists at his side and told her, “Get down from there and get dressed.  I’m taking you to dinner.”  He didn’t wait for her
reply, he just turned and walked away.

     “Is that how you get a date from a vampire?” Keelie asked.  “I shall have to try that.”

     “No, it is not how you get a date,” Ricco said.  “You get dressed too.  We are going with.”

     “Are you asking me out, human?” she teased.

     “Not asking,” Ricco replied, shoving a hand through his blonde hair.  He was nervous about her answer, but he tried not to let it show.  He was taking a chance and he knew it.  If she wanted a vampire, he knew there was no competition.

     Keelie looked at Brea, silently questioning her.  Brea smiled and nodded.  “Fine, we’ll be done in a minute.”

     The ladies got showered and dressed.  “Is this dress too much?” Keelie asked, examining herself in the full length mirror.  It was teal with a plunging neckline and dark blue sequins at the waist.  It set off the color of her icy blue eyes beautifully.

     “Better not be.  They better
be taking us somewhere nice.  Especially if they are going to drag us away from our work to do it.  Besides, have you noticed them doing anything half way?” Brea answered.

     “No, and hey, you look fantastic.”  And Brea did.  She was wearing a slinky black dress that had just appeared in her wardrobe.  It was made of silk with a gathered scoop neck and no sleeves.  It was complete with a pair of black heels that had straps that wrapped around her ankle.  Brea
choose to leave her hair down, and it spiraled wildly down her back.  She wore the barest amount of makeup, just a little mascara, a bit of shadow on her eyelids, and a shimmering lip gloss.  Just enough to draw attention to herself.  Brea licked her lips, enjoying the raspberry flavor to the gloss.  Satisfied it was as good as it was going to get, the women walked down the stairs arm in arm.

     The foyer where they expected to see the men was empty.  “Of course, the mister I am so important rock star is still primping,” Brea muttered.  She was hungry, and she had expected a certain reaction from Angel when she came down the stairs.

     “You know men primp as much or more than women do,” Keelie said.

      “Not true,” a velvety voice said from behind Brea.  She could tell by the way Keelie’s eyes got wider and she sucked in her breath that the men were standing behind her.  Slowly she turned.

      Angel was wearing suit.  A suit, damn it!  It was black as his hair, which he had twisted into a single braid down his back, sleek, and hugged his shoulders in just the right way.   He wore a white shirt under the jacket, a pair of black slacks that were creased to perfection, shiny black shoes and above all else, he wore a black silk tie.  All he needed was a pair of dark sunglasses and he would have looked like a guy from Men in Black.  And damn he was hot.

     Ricco was dressed much the same, and Keelie noticed.  He had even tamed his blonde hair.  They looked perfectly respectable.

     “You look incredible,” Angel said to Brea.

     “Not so bad yourself,” she sighed.

     “But I am afraid your ensemble is missing something,” he mused, a smile lighting his eyes.  He pulled a blue box from his inside pocket, God, it was from Tiffany’s!   He unceremoniously opened it, and pulled a diamond necklace from it.  He slipped it around Brea’s neck and stood back to admire it.  “That’s better.”

     “I, um, I mean, I …”

     “A simple thank you will do just fine,
Mon Amour,
” he purred.

     “It’s too much.
”

     “When will you learn that nothing is too much?  There is nothing I would ever deny you, nothing I wouldn’t give you.”

     “But why?  I mean, I just work for you.”

     “Not tonight, you don’t.    Now, let’s be on our way.”

     It seemed only minutes later that the foursome was sitting at a table in the classiest Italian restaurant in LA.  Brea ate her food carefully, for fear she would drop something on her dress.  It was just that kind of embarrassment she had been hoping to avoid.  Keelie and Ricco sat opposite of Angel and Brea, and they were talking softly amongst themselves and giggling.  Angel managed to scoot close enough to Brea that his thigh was touching hers.  He even slid his hand under the table to lazily draw patterns on her knee.

     The dinner went off without a hitch, and the group left the
restaurant.  Immediately outside, Angel’s head snapped up and he sniffed the air.  “What is it?” Brea asked.  She noticed that Keelie was sniffing the air too.

     “Blood,” Keelie answered.  Angel dropped Brea’s hand and told her to wait.  He and Keelie walked around the corner of the building
and into an alley.  Brea set out to follow.

     “He said wait,” Ricco reminded her.

     “Since when do I listen to any man?  Come on,” she said, taking Ricco by the hand.

     “Just for the record, this is a bad idea,” he grumbled, but followed suit.

     Brea turned the corner and screamed.

     Angel was
kneeling over the body of a woman.  She was young, about Brea’s age, she was covered in blood, and her throat had been ripped out.

    
“
Baise!
Get her out of here!” Angel shouted over the screaming.  Ricco quickly gathered Brea up in his arms and hauled her back around the corner where she could no longer see the dead woman.

     “Can you smell him?” Angel asked Keelie, whose nostrils were flaring.  Her eyes were especially icy, showing her inhuman nature.

     “I think I can,” she said.  “It is a fresh trail.”

     “Follow him.  Don’t let him see you.  Call me when you find something.”

     “I can do it better as a wolf,” she said, slipping out of her dress.

     Brea somehow managed to muscle her way around Ricco and back into the alley
just in time to see a tawny wolf lob off into the night.  Keelie was nowhere to be found.

     “Do you know who she is?” Brea asked in a timid voice, looking at Angel and not the body.

     “No,” he said with a frown.  “I thought I said,”

     “I know,” Ricco interrupted.  “She’s very
persistent.

     “I’m ok, really.  We should call the cops.”

     Angel pulled his cell phone out and dialed Detective Corbin’s number.

     “Who else has seen the body?” Samuel asked.

    
“Just us and Keelie.  She should be getting back here any time now,” Angel told him.

     “Why did she leave in the first place?”

     “I’m sorry, I forgot.  Keelie is a werewolf.  The man left a scent trail.  Her nose is sharper than mine.  I told her to follow him, but not anything else.  She should call soon.”

     “A wolf, huh?”

     “Is that a problem, De-tect-ive?” Brea snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.

     “Again, my apologies,” Angel said.  “She has been through a lot tonight.”   Angel wrapped his arms tighter around Brea’s shoulders.  She was wearing his suit jacket, and it hung to her knees.  Even though her mascara had run, leaving dark circles under her eyes, she was scared and
irritable, he thought she never looked more beautiful.

     “I think whoever is doing this definitely wants to connect it to you,” Samuel said.

     “I am starting to think so myself.  The coincidences are just too many.”

     Brea was trying to listen to the men’s conversation when she felt a cold nose nudging her hand.  She looked down and saw the same tawny wolf from the alley.  Her first reaction was to jerk her hand away from the beast.  It was larger than any normal wolf, and Brea wanted to keep her hand.  The wolf looked up at Brea with the bluest eyes she had ever seen. 
Icy blue eyes.  Human eyes.

     “Keelie?” she whispered.

     The wolf gave a sharp yap, then bared her fangs, allowing her tongue to loll out the side of her mouth in what could only be described as a wolfish grin.  Brea tentatively touched the wolf’s head.  The animal bumped Brea’s hand with her muzzle, and Brea knelt down to scratch behind her ears.  “You make a pretty wolf.  Can you understand me?” Brea asked.