“No, that’s our baby!”
Annette was exhausted and nearly hysterical. Tears streamed down her face at her impending loss. She’d never be able to have another baby. That had been the price of the magic she’d asked for. Madam Marianne had said she could help her, but it would cost her. She would forfeit the right to have another child, and if the child bore the mark of the bayou gator people, she’d have to give up the child.
The gator people were said to inhabit the bayou and have the ability to shift into alligators. Annette was used to silly tales. She’d been born near a bayou parish, so she knew about all sorts of folklore regarding the gator people. She’d never paid much attention to it. Plus, Madam Marianne led her to believe the odds were low that the child would be marked. Now, here she was telling them that their daughter Angelique carried the mark. No, she wasn’t buying it.
“I don’t believe you! At least let us see her,” Annette demanded.
Madam Marianne seemed to consider the request before hunching her shoulders and shaking her head sympathetically.
“Why would you want to lay eyes on something you can’t have? It’ll only upset you more.”
“We want to see her,
now
.”
Louis got to his feet, smoothly pulling out a wicked looking knife, which Annette knew he kept strapped to his ankle. He was tall and imposing in the small room. His ebony features were frozen in a mask of determination. His tone said he’d see their child…no matter what. Madame Marianne’s eyes grew wide before narrowing. She looked at him with angst and disgust. Annette didn’t want to offend the priestess, but she silently enjoyed the look of fear she saw in her eyes. Madam Marianne didn’t have such a condescending look on her face now, she thought as she watched to see what the old woman would do.
“I see this one has violence in him; lots of blood on his hands. Mine won’t be added this day.” She slowly backed toward the door, maintaining eye contact with Louis.
“Rochelle! Bring the child,” she ordered.
In the blink of an eye Rochelle was there with the baby, who’d been cleaned and bundled up. A look of surprise crossed her face as she surveyed the room and the knife Louis was fisting.
“Put the knife away and Rochelle will give your wife the child.”
“We’re taking the baby. She’s ours.”
“But I’ve told you, she’s marked. If you take her away from here, you’ll only be cursing yourselves. The bayou spirit will never leave you alone. You’ll never know peace with what you’ve done.”
“We’ll take our chances.”
“Do you know the gator people?”
Louis was from Nevada, so Annette knew he wasn’t familiar with the legend.
“I don’t give a damn who they are. Now give us our child. We’re taking her home. I’m not going to ask again.”
Annette inhaled. She didn’t want Louis to hurt anyone. She just wanted their baby.
She reached out a hand and put it on his arm to calm him.
Madam Marianne nodded to her daughter, who looked uneasy. The girl slowly brought her the baby. They looked at the small bundle of joy she’d just brought into the world. Opening the blanket, they saw a massive amount of dark, curly hair, pale skin like Annette’s Creole coloring, pink bow-shaped lips, a button nose, and puffy eyes. She was beautiful.
“I don’t see a mark.” Annette cautiously scanned the child, who silently peered back at her through squinty lids.
“It’s on her back.”
She carefully turned the baby over and there, at the base of her spine, lay a rough, dark-green patch about the size and shape of a silver dollar. There were tiny green veins starting to spread out from the patch in all directions. It looked like a sunburst. Madam Marianne had spoken the truth. The child was marked.
Annette’s hand shook as she covered the child back up. A part of her wanted to give the child up. Who knew what she would become? But this was her only chance to have a child. Her gaze went to Louis, although his face was sweaty, his jaw was set, and his eyes steady. He loved her. No matter what she did, he loved and understood her. They would be a family.
“Let’s take our baby and go home.”
Without hesitation, Louis picked her up and walked out of the room. She thought Madam Marianne would try to stop them, but to her surprise she let them pass.
“Momma, you’re not going to do anything?” she heard Rochelle ask.
Louis was putting her into the passenger seat of their car when the priestess spoke.
“They can leave, but they’ll never know peace. The bayou is unforgiving, and there’ll be no rest until that child is returned to her rightful people. Mark my words.”
Annette rolled up her window, tuning out the woman. She was exhausted but could not take her eyes from her daughter, who was sleeping peacefully.
“Louis…”
“Let’s just get her home, Annette.”
She shook her head. Yes, home.
Angelique patrolled the floor of the Tiki Grand Hotel and Casino. As the pit boss for the establishment, her duties were numerous. She controlled the floor and every employee on it. She knew everyone’s job and how it should be done. That’s what made her such a force to be reckoned with. Finding cheaters, be they employees or customers, was a skill she’d always possessed. Perhaps it was because she’d grown up in a casino. Sure, while most girls were playing with dolls, Angelique was playing cards or shooting dice in one of Vegas’s well-known casinos.
“Hey, Angel, Michael wants you.”
Inwardly sighing, Angel turned to the chief security officer, who stood tall in his navy-blue uniform. Mitch was one of the Tiki’s best assets; smart and dependable. He’d worked with her father for decades, knew everything about casino management, and helped her run the day-to-day operations of the Tiki Grand Hotel and Casino. He was like family.
“Did he say what he wanted?”
“Nope, he just said to come get you; said it was real important.”
Angel’s eyebrow lifted. If Michael said something was important, chances were it was about money, and that was nothing for her to be in a rush about. Ever since her adoptive father Leo Palermo passed away and left them both the casino, Michael had been resentful and more irresponsible than usual.
With his suave, third generation Italian-American good looks, Michael was a playboy. He wasn’t, nor would he ever be, a businessman. A casino owner couldn’t have a gambling problem and stay in business for long, and that’s what Michael had, even if he didn’t want to admit it.
Angel loved the man she’d always thought of as brother, but there were times when she really didn’t like him.
She’d been adopted at the age of two by Leo and Maria Palermo. With her golden complexion and thick, curly hair, it wasn’t as if she could blend in with the Italian family. When she was four and asked her mom and dad why she “looked different” from them, they’d explained she was adopted and that she was their child now. The Palermos let her know she was loved no matter how outwardly different they were.
Two years after they’d adopted her, they’d had Michael. Her relationship with Michael had, for the most part, been a typical brother and sister one. That was until the year Michael turned twenty. That was the year Maria Palermo succumbed to breast cancer. Maria had been the buffer between Michael and their father. Leo Palermo wasn’t one to mince words or coddle. He admired strength of character and intelligence. Without their mother, Michael’s spoiled, careless nature couldn’t be hidden. He liked flashy things and enjoyed the benefits and respect of the Palermo name but didn’t want to do anything to uphold it.
Leo Palermo loved his son, but he clearly saw Michael wasn’t a smart businessman. He was prone to gambling and had landed in trouble on several occasions. That was the reason why their dad relied on her instead of Michael to get things done.
Angel enjoyed working side-by-side in business with her dad. She learned everything from him; how to read people, when to show strength, and when to back down. She’d always had an aptitude for the finer points of casino management and genuinely enjoyed working at the Tiki Grand with her father.
When Leo passed away, ownership of the Tiki Grand was split evenly between her and Michael. She knew it would be difficult to be business partners with him, especially when he spent more time gambling and chasing women than managing the casino, but things were becoming impossible. She was surprised he’d come in today. He usually only came in to ask her to sign on a withdrawal, something she wasn’t about to do anymore.
They both received monthly revenues from the casino, which should have more than taken care of their meager living expenses. They lived in suites on the top three floors of the Tiki Grand. They didn’t pay for rent, utilities, or meals; that’s what disgusted her most about the way he ran through money. She was sick of Michael spending his earnings and coming back for more.
In just a few more months, things would change. Angel had been saving her earnings and nearly had enough money to buy Michael out before his spending bankrupted them both. Once she bought his share of the Tiki, she planned to get a loan to renovate the entire casino. She’d been planning it since their father had passed. She’d even been able to talk him into doing a few minor cosmetic changes to the casino before he became ill.
Once he’d been diagnosed with lung cancer, she put the plans on hold and spent all of her time trying to see to his comfort. Her dad refused to let his impending death slow him down. He went on to manage the Tiki for nearly three years before he passed. In that time, Michael moved to L.A. with dreams of being an actor, a dream that never materialized. He wound up back in Vegas living off their father’s name and money even as he faded away.
The reminder of her loss put a lump in her throat. Angel missed her dad. He’d been a tough man, but with her, he’d always been gentle, patient, loving, and strong; qualities that seemed to pass Michael over.
She turned to Mitch.
“Can you watch the floor? I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
“Sure will, Angel. Take your time and don’t let him get to you.”
“I’ll try not to, but if you see a body tossed out of the window, you’ll know I failed,” she mused before walking away, leaving Mitch to take her place near the roulette tables.
Angel made her way to the private elevator bank at the back of the casino. Along the way, she observed the worn carpets, outdated Hawaiian décor, and walls in need of new paint.
Hang in there old girl. I’ll have you fixed up and competing with the big boys in a little while.
It wasn’t just a pledge, it was a promise. Standing in front of the elevator’s polished silver doors, Angel checked her appearance. She was wearing her classic navy-blue business jacket, white button-down shirt, and a navy pencil skirt. Her sheer, black stockings were nearly transparent against her honey-colored skin, and her comfortable black pumps, although a bit worn, were still in good shape. She liked to keep things simple. A good pit boss was never seen or heard until necessary. People tended to change their behavior when they knew they were being watched. She was in the business of catching cheats, so being able to blend in was to her benefit.
Angel pushed the pins farther into her up-do and arranged the loose curls framing her face. Ruddy brown eyes stared back at her, and for the millionth time she wondered if there was a woman or man out in the world who shared them with her. Being adopted had a way of making her question herself.
Not that the Palermos had been bad. They’d been wonderful parents, but when she smiled and her dimples showed, she couldn’t help but wonder if her biological mother had those same dimples. When she got nervous and her body got all cold and clammy, she wondered if she’d gotten that trait from her biological father. And the rough circle of skin at the base of her spine…well, she wouldn’t think about that particular trait. She’d grown up in a casino. It was an unorthodox yet loving environment. She’d gone to college, had boyfriends and lovers. For all intents and purposes, she was happy and well-adjusted, or so she thought.
She and Michael sometimes had knockdown, drag-out fights, like most siblings she supposed. Yet all in all, she was normal…So why did it all seem so fake to her? As if she was living someone else’s life.
The doors to the elevator opened, and two blonde waitresses in grass skirts and coconut bras stepped off, chatting and whispering. They immediately straightened up when they noticed her. The smiles they pasted on their faces were as fake as the silicone implants threatening to spill out of their coconut shells.
“Hi, Miss Palermo,” they greeted her in unison.
Angel nodded curtly to both women, careful not to show her distaste at the amount of fake breasts they were exposing.
She hated the new outfits the waitresses were now wearing. They were cheap and tacky in her opinion. However, Michael was partially running the show now. When he said he wanted to get more involved in day-to-day decision making, Angel knew she would regret it, but what could she do? Not only was he her partner, he was also her baby brother. She wanted him to become more responsible, and she’d promised their dad she’d watch out for him. She stepped back a bit a let him have his way with a few minor changes.
Michael decided to make it his priority to bring more business their way. No matter how much she tried to persuade him otherwise. He would not relent when it came to the costume changes for the lounge girls, saying they needed something to attract the customers. The more skin showing the better was his motto. Angel gritted her teeth in memory before boarding the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor.
The women turned and glanced at her before giggling.
“Stuck up bitch,” she heard one of them say before giggling again.
Angel was used to snide remarks. She wasn’t the type to be overly friendly with the staff. Her goal was to be courteous and fair, but she deliberately kept her distance. Some employees didn’t understand the need for boundaries, so they talked about her. For the most part, she didn’t mind; it came with the territory. Managing people was a tough job. What she did mind was mean-spirited disrespect. She’d always had really good hearing. Sometimes it was a blessing and sometimes it was a curse. Angel just wasn’t in the mood to let things slide. She’d see that both women were collecting their final pay by the end of the day. She never forgot a face and she didn’t take outright insults well. They’d learn that fact the hard way before they left.