Read The Fall Of Sky Page 6


  He stood up with a swift motion, pausing to take a long, hard and invasive look at me before he shifted behind the chair and gave me a slow mocking bow. His movements were as smooth as a tiger’s.

  Emilio. I hadn’t seen him with Jonas before, and it made me wonder where he had come up with this particular hound to service his very predatory needs. The guy’s eyes chilled me to the bone as I approached the chair he’d previously occupied. I turned slowly but kept my eye on him until the very last second as I slid into the chair next to Jonas.

  “Don’t mind Emilio. His manners have become rusty being stuck in the hacienda back home with nothing but chickens and lazy ranch hands to torment all day.” Jonas huffed a snort out, and the others joined in, laughing like it was the silliest thing ever—everyone, except Emilio. I did my best to keep my warm smile from freezing onto my face and chuckled along with the rest of them, trying to look alive. Emilio’s icy glare dug into my shoulder blades, but I didn’t give him the satisfaction of turning around to meet his deadened eyes again.

  “I hope you enjoy the show tonight.” Why did I feel so nervous? My fingers grasped the edge of my skirt while my palms soaked the fabric. Jonas was handsome, but I knew he was not what he appeared to be. At least Emilio wore his insanity on his sleeve. Jonas hid it efficiently, looking as relaxed as a fed lion on the savannah prairie. I knew better though. He could turn on you like a cat starved for days and rip a person to shreds.

  My throat was dry, and I waved a waitress down as Jonas responded to my comment.

  “I’m truly looking forward to it. I’ve spent many hours watching you before at Ruben’s bar, but his penchant for heavy metal rock n’ roll never really let me hear your real music. From what I hear about it, it’s absolutely enchanting.” The lights made his liquid black eyes flash a multitude of colors as he watched me. He didn’t move, but continued to lean on the table, his fingers holding his head tilted to the side as he studied me.

  “What can I get you?” The waitress shifted in place, unconsciously nervous from the static energy these guys emitted by the butt load. She flicked her eyes around to check them out, but let them focus on mine. I could tell she was afraid to let her gaze wander to the wrong person.

  “I’d like a Bailey’s and a water.” I flashed my toothy smile, trying to reassure her with it as she nodded and rushed away, back into the swallow of people grinding to the house music. I had barely heard her repeat my order before she left since the place was so loud and crowded.

  “This tempo makes me tired. When are you on, Preciosa?” Jonas’ fingers reached out to pluck my hands out of my lap and bring them up to the table, running his fingertips over my palms. It sent small sparks shooting up my arms, and my breath stilled as I watched him closely and fought to not pull away.

  “Not long now, probably five minutes.” The waitress returned and placed a napkin on the table, followed by my drink and a glass of water.

  “Anything else?” She waited patiently to be paid before Jonas shook his head and pressed a fifty dollar bill into her hands, dismissing her. She grinned, still flighty with her feet bouncing as she nodded and left the weight of stares from the group and went back into the safety of the bar.

  Boy, did I wish I could escape like her too, but I was stuck. No turning back now.

  I grabbed my drink and slammed it down, feeling the burn of the heavy alcohol fire up my esophagus, where I promptly chased it with a cool drink of icy water. Coughing from the burn, I cleared my throat and turned back toward Jonas.

  “I have to go set up. I’ll see you after the show?”

  He nodded, his lips giving me a smooth smile as his eyes bore into my own. He was intense; I had to give him that.

  “Of course.”

  I took that as my cue to get up and walk away toward the stage. The more steps I took, the easier it became to breathe, as if the presence of his little mafia had stolen the oxygen from the surrounding atoms. Peeking back for a second, I found not only Jonas’ gaze lingering on me, but Emilio’s as well. Where Jonas’ eyes shined with desire, Emilio’s were coldly sharp like obsidian blades.

  What was his deal?

  Whatever it was that pushed down on me while I was with them, I was relieved to get to this momentary quiet in the ever approaching storm, pummeling down my way faster than even I could ever hope to outrun.

  Chapter Twelve

  Audrey

  The set had gone as smoothly as any had. Dressed to the nines with Liv’s help and with the perfect music, it made for a flawless evening. Though I had watched Liv interact with Jonas without a hitch across the room, I couldn’t help but feel a thread of uneasiness wrap its little tendrils tightly around my chest as I struggled to fight off the anxiety building in me. Only the music had calmed my uncertainty, that and Saul’s constant reassurances.

  “She’s an adult. How long before you let her go?” He’d leaned into my ear and whispered loud enough for me to hear over the loud club music thumping in the background. I didn’t need him to tell me such an obvious observation, but he didn’t know Liv like I did. Yes, she was grown up. No, we weren’t nine anymore, when tragedy struck and left the remains of embedded scars forever tattooed across our souls, but that was beside the point. Liv could tread into the fire so easily, without a second glance behind, burning her very soul at the same time. It wasn’t until afterwards, when her ship had sank and her heart lay in tatters of a thousand shredded ribbons across the floor, did she come running back, begging me to pick up each and every little shard.

  “There is no letting go, not when you’re in this deep,” I whispered back. I turned and almost bumped noses with Saul. His faded blue eyes looked through me, but I could feel his soul bearing the weight of concern onto me. Funny, his eyes may not be the windows to his spirit, but their ghostly shadows still amplified the soul within. “She’s like that. She jumps in full throttle and goes until she crashes and burns. It’s not that she can’t handle it. It’s not that she can’t live another day after it all goes down. It’s that she takes me down with her. She drags me in, no matter how hard I try and fight it with every little morsel of my being. Somehow I get dragged into it. Somehow it ends up on my shoulders. Yes, I’m tired of it, and no, I shouldn’t let her grip onto me so hard I can’t shove her off, but that’s the way we are. She’s my sister. I have to protect her.”

  “Do you really know what you’re protecting her from, or are you doing it for reasons that don’t exist anymore?”

  Why did he have to push so hard? If I wanted psychoanalysis of why I did things, it sure as hell wouldn’t be with some stranger I barely knew. I pressed my lips together and turned away, slamming the amp chord into Liv’s acoustic guitar. I lowered it to its stand on the stage and jumped up to thread the amp’s power cord toward the plugs against the wall. Saul stopped being so philosophical, and I moved back to the busy work that kept me sane−setting up the instruments for the show. We would be up in less than five, and I was the kind of girl that liked to have everything perfect.

  “Liv!” I spotted her heading toward the stage. Jonas’ hungry eyes followed her the whole way there too. My temper seethed, but I swallowed it back and handed her some guitar picks. “Cutting it close, aren’t you?”

  “Oh, untwist your granny panties, Sis. I was just warming him up.”

  She turned to search the crowd, landing on Jonas and his somber bunch. She waved to the man, and he gave her curt nod, a grin warming his face. He was the only one not frowning in the bunch, and their cool, stony glares turned my blood cold.

  “They look like they’re at a funeral.”

  “His friends don’t really have any kind of personality.”

  I glanced again at his comrades and shuddered. “The guy next to Jonas, who’s he?” I fixed my eyes on the one glaring at Liv. He seriously gave me the creeps. His features were similar to Jonas’ but more rounded and youthful. Where time had carved out their leader’s features, it had not touched this one yet. Only the harde
ned soul underneath gave away the death and destruction he could wield. Seriously wacked.

  “Oh, that’s Emilio. I think he’s Jonas’ younger brother, but I don’t remember if he’s the youngest or second youngest.” She shrugged. “He’s got a big family.” Liv waved it off like it was no big deal. She leaned over her guitar after she’d dragged some slack for the cord over to the stool she would use during the performance. She quickly tuned it by ear and strummed the strings softly, unheard beyond the stage due to the overbearing thrum of house music.

  “You sure know a lot about him for just deciding to go out with him. His brother looks like he’s forgotten how to party.”

  She chuckled. “He probably has. I really do my research, Sis. Just haven’t gotten to him yet.”

  “Why the fuck does he give me the heebie geebies, Liv? I thought Jonas was scary, but that one has him beat hands down. I don’t like this.” I felt my anxiety blossoming in my stomach like an over indulged meal.

  “Relax. It’s show time, Sis.”

  So that’s how she left me hanging, mumbling curses at her reluctance to give me the Intel here. I turned and found my own stool, and then pulled the tambourines from the table behind me. I would squeeze the info out of her later when we had a moment to ourselves—later, when the hungry vultures in the crowd weren’t drooling at us like pieces of bloody meat. Yes, that would be better. That would be when there’d be only us to talk to each other amongst the stars in the middle of darkness.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Liv

  “I want to apologize for our less than tasteful meeting the last time we spoke.” Jonas sat perfectly poised, his legs crossed and relaxed in his fancy suit, and his hair slicked back as he eyed me next to him. I was trying to relax in the soft but new leather seats of his Lincoln Town car. Marco, his driver and husky body guard, steered the car around the congested streets of Los Angeles, where our current gig was, past the darkened streets of ghettos and run down shacks lining the cracked roads of Balboa Park. I gulped as I watched the scenery outside the window past Jonas’ face. This was the first time I would be with him in private and not a restaurant or club.

  What in the pit of hell we were doing here was beyond me, but I suspected he had safe houses all down the coast of California, and that this was partly a routine check up on his territory. It made me cringe. The endless spotting of opposing gang snitches who lingered on corners and eyed the shiny black car as it sped on by, as if it belonged there and wasn’t out of place whatsoever amongst the junked cars. Oh, but it did stick out surrounded by ill-repaired stucco houses and endless blocks of tightly fitted apartments, where kids ran out into the streets looking dirty and neglected, and where laundry hung constantly on the threads of clotheslines. They were used to watching this shiny black metal transport escort their definition of Death through the neighborhood.

  That was the only way to survive—gain the respect of those beneath you through violence and a firm grip of the city with terror.

  Terribly fun, right?

  “Does it still hurt?” Jonas reached toward my cheek, and I fought to not pull away. I forced a tiny smile on my face as he slipped his finger down my cheek, studying it intently with his dark eyes.

  “No. It’s almost all faded and gone.”

  He frowned and leaned back, staring quietly out the window as the dusk folded into the night and the vampires began their descent into activity of the city life after hours.

  “I assure you, I’m not in the habit of hitting women.” Apologizing? Wasn’t that out of character for him? I speculated what was running through his synapses when he said nothing more.

  “Just men, then?” I gave a chuckle, feeling anxious as I shifted in the leather. It sighed and complained at my movements.

  He turned back, and his shiny black eyes twinkled under the tinted sunroof, which let the streetlamp’s illumination flash by at intervals, showing me his features more clearly at those moments. He was terribly good looking, but I knew the tainted, dark soul living under such a perfect exterior. I was determined to not let it sway me whatsoever. This was a job, nothing more, and I needed every bit of my wits to stay intact. To stay alive…

  “I don’t operate that way. Most that are faced with me are in their last moments on this earth. I try to avoid such scenarios. Sometimes it’s a gruesome job, but it must be done.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say to that. Whether or not I should question him about his career choice and the specifications of it was up in the air, but the little voice in the back of my head warned me to not ask.

  “Dangerous line of work, huh?”

  He smiled, his chin leaning on his hand and his eyes completely focused on me. His grin caused the fine lines around his eyes to deepen, chiseling out the life experience across his face. Stubble lined his jaw, and sparkly diamond and platinum rings glinted against his fingers in the streetlamps, like tiny stars stickered onto his skin.

  “You could say that.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To my residence.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath, but regretted it immediately. He might think I was having reservations about this precarious arrangement. Okay, so I was, but luckily, he moved forward in his chair at the same time to speak to Marco in a hurried whisper so he hadn’t noticed.

  “I wasn’t sure what to wear, since I didn’t have any idea on where we were headed.” I waved a hand over my skin tight black jeans and a loose sparkly silver and black blouse. “I hope it’s enough.” A dragon pendant choker strapped to my neck and matching earrings completed the outfit. I’d done my hair up in larger rollers, and the resulting curls highlighted the curves of my cheekbones. I’d gone all out and prayed that it was enough.

  I was pretty sure that the girls Jonas Esperanza had been used to having around were gorgeous, and I had nothing on the lengths they took to look the part of a Cartel associate.

  He sat back and took me in, letting his eyes slide down each part of me with a slow, thorough survey of my outfit and body. It made me blush, my face suddenly heated, and sweat began to dampen my blouse just as fast. This scrutiny had turned my mouth into a barren desert, and I fought the urge to cross my arms over my breasts and turn away from him- that or jump out the car at the next stoplight.

  Not an option.

  Instead, I gave him a wicked smile, as if I was drinking in his glimpses like a sweet anticipation of what could possibly come. If we were heading to his house, he very well could be expecting it.

  “You’re perfect.” His words came out subtle, as if it was a shared secret for only my ears. It made my heart quicken and did nothing to disperse the redness I was surely bearing across my face. Luckily, it was dark and quite unnoticeable in the darkness of the car.

  “Thank you.”

  The car pulled around one more corner where it approached a gated wall. Beyond the wall, I could see nothing. It wasn’t see through, and the only thing I could make out was a series of palm trees swaying in the soft breeze above the cusp of the walls. Marco pulled down his window and waved to the guards at the gate. They weren’t armed, but I was pretty sure they had some guns stashed in the tiny post.

  They waved us on, and the gate began its smooth slide open. Once the car cleared the heavy wrought iron, it scooted in and the gate’s large doors immediately closed swiftly behind it. After that, it wound around a long driveway made of smooth cobblestone, through more bushes and greenery, which hid the wide, one story hacienda beyond. It wasn’t extravagant, as I was expecting, but it wasn’t small either. It looked humble, lived in, and warm. I didn’t know why I liked it immediately, but it was so different from the massive mansion of the Hollywood hills I’d driven past. It was an oasis in the middle of a middle class neighborhood, but appeared to be miles from civilization.

  It didn’t quite fit Jonas, somehow. I didn’t how or why it felt that way. I hoped I was going to be wrong, but I liked the house and the grounds.

  The car came to a stop,
and Marco bounced his way out of the driver’s seat. His bulk made him huff as he pushed himself out, and straightened his suit and tie, before opening the car door and letting us out. Standing next to Marco, I felt incredibly short and fragile, as if he could crush me with his massive sausage fingers and broad shoulders. Even Jonas looked scrawny next to his bodyguard. I could definitely see why he’d picked him.

  “Welcome to my humble abode.” Jonas waved his arm out proudly, grinning so wide, I could see his shiny white teeth behind his smooth pink lips.

  “It’s really gorgeous.” I didn’t even have to make that a lie; it was completely true.

  “It’s a home.” He reached over, cupping my back as he urged me forward. I let him, breathing in to relax as we passed the threshold of his house.

  It was classic California Spanish style with curved archways down the halls and a wide open living area connecting to a kitchen with a massive stove, dual fridges, and a stand up freezer. The large island was tiled in blue and white styled squares and lined with red earthen styled bricks on the edges. Tall stools surrounded the counter, but there was also a formal dining room to one side, in another room where the large oak table stood with ten chairs lined neatly on the table’s sides. A rich lace runner lay across the top and was held down by a wrought iron candelabra with cream colored candles and matching single holders on either side of it.

  The living room held two sofas, both dark green in color with a variety of colored pillows and a couple of fleece blankets. Ottomans and footstools littered the fronts of the couches, and a large wood coffee table, which appeared to be a slice of an actual tree, with a glossy finish sat in the middle of the sitting area with a variety of novels and architecture books strewed across it.