When Dusk Comes Page 2

  “I understand, Miss Lewis,” Lucía cooed, her voice luxurious and velvety.

  Erin breathed a heavy sigh of relief. The end is near.

  “Samael,” Lucía called to the man on her right. “Please see that Miss Lewis obtains whatever authorization she needs to travel. Notify the crew of our change in itinerary.” The man nodded in response before striding away with a cellphone to his ear. “I give you my word, Miss Lewis, you will have no trouble from the man you seek. He will come with you willingly,” Lucía promised, the hint of a half smile curling on her lips.

  Erin was stunned into silence by her smile. For a moment she wondered if she fell asleep at the wheel somewhere and was having a vivid dream during her coma.

  “Very well,” Lucía responded, signaling her interpretation of Erin’s silence as acceptance. “Where are you staying?” Lucía’s dark honied eyes gave Erin a quick once over.

  “Oh, well, nowhere. I hadn’t planned on staying,” Erin admitted.

  Lucía nodded curtly and turned to the two men standing off to the side.

  “I’m sure they’ll see you to suitable accommodations,” she stated matter-of-factly, sending Williams and Sanders springing to life and shuffling to the computer at the front desk.

  “Thank you,” Erin managed when she was left alone with Lucía.

  “You’re like a guardian angel,” she joked to ease her own awkwardness.

  Lucía grinned devilishly, and the tip of her tongue peeked out of her mouth for just a second to moisten her bottom lip. Erin was overcome with the intense and primal desire to know what those lips tasted like. Lucía leaned in a few inches, close enough for Erin to smell the subtle sweetness of her perfume. The proximity caused her pulse to race as heat flooded her body. It was all Erin could do to keep herself from pushing Lucía up against a Venetian plastered wall and devour her.

  “I can promise you, Miss Lewis”— Lucía’s low, sultry whisper made Erin’s heart pound harder in her chest— “I am no angel.” The words flowed from Lucía’s mouth and wrapped themselves around Erin’s body, it left her feeling like she was being enveloped in silk sheets and ravished.

  Erin closed her eyes briefly, but when she opened them, Lucía was already floating away.

  “Be here at six o’clock sharp tomorrow night.” Samael’s voice was jarring, and forced Erin’s gapping mouth shut. “Fill this out.” He handed her a sheet of paper with handwritten questions. “Then seal it in an envelope and give it to Williams,” he instructed. “You need to do that tonight.”

  Erin nodded but couldn’t find any words to say. Samael rolled his eyes before disappearing out the revolving doors.

  “Right this way, Miss Lewis.” Williams forced a smile.

  Erin couldn’t care less that Williams didn’t look too stoked with the task he’d been assigned. She was desperately trying to process what the hell just happened. Did I even say yes? As she followed Williams to her room, Erin tried to think back at how she had ended up apparently agreeing to go to France tomorrow.

  “Holy crap.” Erin gasped upon discovering she had been given a suite with a balcony overlooking Bourbon Street.

  “Laissez les bons temps rouler!” she shouted like a predictable tourist.

  Revelers met her call with raucous cheers and more than one set of naked boobs. Erin found a bucket of complementary beads on the tiny balcony and flung them in the customary fashion. It may not have been Fat Tuesday, but it certainly looked that way to Erin. She found a second wind and decided

  to enjoy her only night in New Orleans. After a quick shower, she got back into the same outfit - minus the underwear she’d left drying in the shower.

  Erin glanced at her Swatch watch knock-off and decided to call her dad before it got any later in Boston.

  “Hey kiddo!” her dad answered excitedly as he always did when she called. Erin listened for any signs of slurred speech.

  “Hi Pops,” she greeted. “How’s it going?”

  “Fine, fine. Just sitting here practicing my wood whittling skills like a fine old man,” he said trying to take on a Southern drawl to cover his heavy New England accent.

  “Oh please, you’re not even old enough to retire,” she laughed.

  “Well, I guess I’ll be pretty good at it by then.”

  “You’ll never guess where I’m going tomorrow,” Erin said excitedly.

  “Oh, are you going on one of those bayou boat tours? I know you weren’t planning on staying, but you’ve got to rest and you might as well take in some sights.”

  “Oh I’ll be taking in some sights, I’m going to France,” Erin said with renewed laughter, it still sounded unbelievable.

  Erin filled her dad in on the details, though she failed to mention how gorgeous Lucía was. Pete listened to the tale without interruption.

  “Erin, you don’t think this is some kind of scam do you? I mean, if they ask you to carry a bag for them you say no, no matter how much cash they offer. No matter what, we don’t need the money that badly. It’s not worth you getting locked up abroad,” Pete’s tone was more serious than Erin was used to, usually she was the one handing out words of caution.

  “What kind of crappy bounty hunter do you think I am? Don’t answer that,” she added before he could respond. “Listen I checked her out online,

  she is who she say she is.” Erin glanced at her phone, the article she was reading, Hotelier Opens Hotspot in Hong Kong, was still open. The picture of Lucía stepping out of the high rise, her face stoic and impassible, drove Erin to distraction.

  “Honey?” Pete asked, forcing Erin back to the present.

  “Yeah, so anyway,” Erin cleared her throat, “I’m going to be away for a couple of days but I’ll check in just as soon as I can. My phone won’t work outside the country, so I’ll call when you’re home from work.”

  “Okay, but don’t you be worrying about your old man, I’m fine. My utilities were paid in advance agains this month though I’m sure you wouldn’t anything about that,” he said with a knowing chuckle. “You just be careful, and don’t get used to eating snails and frog legs,” he teased.

  “No chance of that,” Erin laughed.

  When they hung up, Erin stayed on the bed for another minute. He really does sound fine, she told herself.

  * * *

  “If you wanted her, it would have been a lot cheaper to just invite her to your bed,” Samael commented as he slipped his phone into his suit pocket and made himself comfortable in the back of the limousine.

  Lucía crossed her legs and leaned over to reach for a wine glass. She hated drinking in the car, but she was parched.

  “Sometimes,” Lucía began, pouring herself a drink from an intricately decorated glass decanter. “A lioness in captivity tires of being served the most exquisite cuts of meat.” She set the heavy decanter back onto the small bar built into the car door. “From time to time a predator needs to

  hunt or her fangs will grow dull and her nights pointless,” she finished before taking a sip of the rich, red beverage. “And anyway, that bastard Aloro is stealing from me. Allowing him to turn himself in will be a lot less messy.”

  Samael smirked, the sharp white points flashing in his mouth. He combed his fingers through the soft raven curls of the handsome young man sitting at his side. He muttered something like if you say so, before baring his teeth and sinking them into his favorite lover. Lucía watched for a moment in measured amusement before taking another long sip of her drink. Her tongue, warm and tingly, swiped across her lips to pick up any errant drops. Even after her fangs retracted when her hunger was sated, her lips held on to the bright red stain.

  Lucía leaned back in the leather seat and let her body relax, considering the girl she just met. What a strange combination of grit and awkward youth. It had been so long since she chased anyone so outside her orbit.

  Perhaps it would be a much-needed diversion in what had become a monotonous existence.

  “Hello,” Lucía answered h
er phone.

  “My Queen,” the voice on the other end wavered. “There has been an attack,” he continued with rushed details. Lucía sat up straight, earning a concerned look from Samael. He left his lover’s neck as soon as Lucía’s breathing pattern changed.

  “What is it?” Samael asked, his face reflecting his concern.

  “An attack,” she responded without elaborating. “Another one.”

  Chapter Two

  The mid-morning light streamed in through open plantation shutters, but it wasn’t the uninvited sunshine that stirred Erin from a deep sleep.

  “Room service,” a disembodied voice called through the door.

  Erin grumbled loudly but failed to move from the bed. Her head crept under the pillow to keep the brightness at bay. Even the sound of her room door opening was not enough to rouse her. She hauled the sheets up a little higher to cover her naked body. She didn’t exactly recall getting naked, or even getting back to her room, for that matter. The last thing she remembered was knocking back deceptively sweet hurricanes and singing karaoke at some dive bar. Oh God, I was singing, she thought in horror.

  Loudly, judging by the soreness in her throat.

  “Miss Lewis, I brought you breakfast,” a plump, middle-aged woman with a slight Spanish accent announced like they were previously acquainted.

  Erin lifted the pillow from her face, barely revealing one squinting eye.

  Nope, Erin confirmed, I don’t know you. “Thank you,” she mumbled through down feathers and plush cotton. “My credit card is in the back pocket of my jeans,” she added, pulling the pillow back down over her face.

  “It’s been taken care of. Now it’s time for you to get up,” the entirely too familiar woman said while wheeling the food cart to the round wooden dining table.

  There was no way she was getting up this early. Not when she had all day to get her stuff together for the impromptu trip. How long could it take to buy some underwear and a shirt? Maybe I should get some sweatpants, she made a mental note to find the nearest Target.

  The other woman didn’t say another word as she began setting the table with fruit, eggs, bacon, juice, coffee, oatmeal, and just about anything else anyone had ever eaten for breakfast.

  “Hey!” Erin screamed when the covers were snatched off her body.

  “Up,” the woman, her hair an unnatural shade of burgundy tied up in a bun, repeated with authority.

  “What the hell, lady? I’m naked!” Erin screeched, though she wasn’t really bothered by her own nudity; it was the principle of the matter.

  “Oh, calm down.” The woman stared at the wall as she threw the robe she’d been holding onto the bed. “I didn’t look. Plus, you’ve seen one skinny behind, you’ve seen them all.” She laughed, giving Erin her back so she could finish covering herself.

  “What’s your name?” Erin asked as she double knotted the thick terrycloth robe.

  “Caridad,” she responded warmly. “You can call me Cari if you like.”

  “Well Cari, please call me Erin, and thanks for the spread. It looks like you’re gonna have to join me though,” she said, surveying the feast. The table, which could easily fit six adults comfortably, was packed with plates, bowls, platters, and jars. They were unlikely to make a dent.

  “Buen Provecho then,” Caridad offered in Spanish before pouring herself some coffee.

  After half an hour of voracious eating and enjoyable small talk, Erin pushed her plate back in a signal of surrender. She didn’t comment on Cari having only nursed a cup of coffee without taking anything else. Erin figured she probably wasn’t supposed to have sat down with her at all, but Erin wasn’t well-versed in the rules of being waited on. She couldn’t imagine how weird it would have been to stuff her face while Cari just watched. “It’s a shame to waste all this food.” She scanned the mostly untouched plates, her lips turning into a frown.

  “Oh, it won’t be wasted,” Caridad assured her as she started placing metal covers over white china. Erin stood to help but was instantly reprimanded by the woman’s swatting hand. “No, no, no. There is a very specific order that must be followed to get all the plates to fit back on the cart.”

  “Jeez alright!” Erin held up her hands in surrender and backed away slowly.

  “Go take a bath. You smell like an ashtray floating in gin.” Caridad stifled a smile.

  Erin dipped her chin to surreptitiously take a whiff of herself and found that she was rather ripe. “Fine,” she said, slumping her shoulders forward.

  She skulked toward the bathroom, ready to don the same clothes she’d been living in for two days. At least she had the presence of mind to hand wash the undies the night before. Before she could mentally pat herself on the back, she realized her clothes were nowhere to be found. “What the hell?”

  she mumbled to herself while searching the room.

  “They’re being cleaned,” Caridad called out as Erin started searching on her hands and knees.

  “What?” Her head popped out from under the bed like a Whack-a-Mole rodent. “What do you mean, they’re being cleaned?” She jumped to her feet before checking the nightstand to make sure her gun was where she’d left it.

  “Ms. Guerra’s instructions were very specific,” Caridad stated as if already bored with Erin’s outrage.

  “What the hell am I supposed to wear?” Erin crossed her arms over her chest.

  “How about something from the closet?” she suggested flatly.

  Erin rolled her eyes and took cautious steps forward as if a legion of vipers might attack when she slid open the heavy door. “This is ridiculous,”

  Erin commented to herself when she Saw the interior of the closet.

  There were jeans in every shade ranging from washed out light blue to pitch black. There were at least two-dozen shirts of varying styles, mostly t-shirts, but some button downs and even a red and purple flannel, too. A satiny sort of strapless pink dress was nestled in the back hovering over a pair of nude stiletto pumps. It was next to a black pantsuit with a beige silk shell. Erin gave those outfits a dubious look and continued scanning the wardrobe. She counted five leather jackets, none black. She couldn’t stop her fingers from reaching out and feeling the cool, supple material. Even her dusty old boots had been exchanged for four new pairs, each a different shade of black or brown. She would never spend money on those kinds of things, even if she could, and that was the most infuriating part about their presence in her room. Not to mention the fact that someone waltzed in and stuck all those things in there. Did they come in while I was sleeping? Erin turned on her heels, nose flared and cheeks crimson.

  “I need to speak to Lucía.”

  “Well, it’s not like I’ve got her number,” Cari shrugged. “Go shower and pick something out. You have fresh undergarments in the drawer there.”

  She said, seemingly unmoved by Erin’s demand.

  “I’m not a child. I don’t need to be told what to do,” Erin grouched but had no choice other than to do what Caridad instructed. She couldn’t very well storm out of the room naked, although she had half a mind to do it.

  Would serve them right for taking my stuff.

  * * *

  “What do you mean you can’t call her?” Erin asked the hotel manager in fervent aggravation.

  “I gave you the number to her office. That is the best I can do. My apologies that she was not accessible there, I have no other way to contact her,” Williams said through tightly gritted teeth.

  Erin groaned as she put her head down on the front desk’s granite top. I give up. She didn’t want to spend the day in clothes that weren’t hers. Who knows what kind of Fifty Shades of Gray bullshit Lucía expected in return?

  “Miss Lewis, are you ill?” Williams asked when Erin didn’t lift her head off the counter for several seconds. His eyes darted nervously around Erin, then to the floor beneath her.

  “Just a little hung over,” she muttered to herself before standing up straight. “Thanks.” Erin
offered a sloppy military salute before meandering out to the valet. Williams picked up the phone as Erin departed the front desk.

  “Good morning,” Erin said as she smiled at the young man in the red vest. “I don’t have a ticket, but I left my car here last night, and—”

  “Miss Lewis,” Caridad came bounding out of the revolving door, her keys in hand and purse firmly affixed to her shoulder. “Where are you off to?”

  Erin hesitated. Would it be rude to admit she was going to buy travel items and clothes when they’d already been provided? “I’m running to the store for a few things.” She hedged her bets with ambiguity.

  Caridad said something to the valet in Spanish too fast for Erin to comprehend. He halted his quest for Erin’s keys. “Come on.” She gestured for Erin to follow. “I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

  “Oh, no, you don’t have to do that. I’ve got my car. No need to trouble yourself.” Erin waved her hands in front of her body.

  “You are Ms. Guerra’s guest. It would be my pleasure,” she insisted.

  “Plus, I can show you around town a little if you’d like. Maybe a few places off the beaten path?” Cari’s grin was huge and infectious. Erin got the impression this lady wasn’t one for gratuitous smiles.

  “I hate to be a burden,” she declined again, though not firmly enough, her Catholic guilt pulled at her guts.

  “Nonsense.” Caridad looped her arm through Erin’s. “I am more than happy to do it.”

  If Erin physically resisted, she would make a spectacle of herself. She’s just trying to be nice, Erin told herself. Southern hospitality and all that.

  “Well, if you really don’t mind,” Erin relented. “I was planning to go to Target.”

  “Wonderful. I know a nice scenic route.” Caridad nodded before leading Erin to the employee parking lot near the riverfront.

  * * *

  The afternoon flew by while the pair ran circles around the city. Caridad put off going to the store so long that once she’d finished showing Erin the sights, there was only enough time to get back to the hotel. The day began with Frenchman Street to watch the street performers, artists, and musicians doing their thing for the sound of change in a cup. It ended in a tiny hole in the wall for a sampling of the city’s signature shrimp étoufféee and fried catfish.