Текст книги "One Immortal"

Автор книги: Tia Louise

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10

Options Melissa

The crowd is thin when we cross the street to Mr. B’s for an early lunch. Elaine hands me my rescued clutch, and I notice she’s wearing the same yellow dress from last night. I’d changed at the hotel, although I was tempted to stay in Derek’s shirt.

Memories of last night buzz under my skin, and I want to have him around me as well as inside me. I’m sure he’s behind this change in me, if I could only figure out how.

The hostess leads us to a large, circular booth in a dim-lit back corner. It’s perfect for our meeting here today. Mariska hasn’t arrived, so Elaine and I order a bottle of Pinot gris to sip while we catch up.

“You didn’t spend the night with him?” She looks disappointed. “After the way he ran after you in the rain? It was so romantic.”

“Actually,” I can’t stop a smile. “I did spend the night with him—and I slept all night!”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “All night?”

“Well, half of the night. After we… you know.”

“But how is that possible? What happened?”

“I don’t know! It’s like someone hit the reset button, and I’m back at the beginning.” Motioning her forward, I lower my voice. “Even better, I can’t hear him anymore.”

She jumps back. “Hear him? You mean—”

“Stop!” Lunging forward, my fingers hover over her lips. With a vague sense of panic, I glance over my shoulder. “Don’t say his name. I’ve been trying not to even think it.”

She glances around as well, scooting closer to me as if for protection. “W-why?”

“I don’t know.” We’re whispering now. “It seems to help him find me.”

“Oh my god,” she shudders. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

My lip catches in my teeth, and my chin drops. “I was afraid of what you might think. He would speak in my mind, tell me to do things.”

Elaine’s fingers tense on my arm.

“I didn’t do them!” I add hastily. “I fought him, blocked him out the way you do with other peoples’ thoughts.”

“Melissa, that’s horrifying!”

“It was horrifying. Now it’s stopped.”

Mariska swirls in wearing a strappy handkerchief-patterned sundress. Her light-brown hair is pulled into a low side-ponytail, and she has a ring on every finger. “Sorry I’m late! Damn ferry.”

We scoot around the green leather bench to let her sit. Her slim brows knit at our worried expressions. “What did I miss?”

Leaning forward, I tell her my news. Her golden eyes blink wider. “This is very significant. You’ve weakened his power. Tell me every thing you did since yesterday.”

“I can’t possibly remember everything.” I can’t tell them about biting Derek.

“Try, Mel,” Elaine urges. “It’s vital to your cure.”

A waiter appears to take Mariska’s drink order. She requests sweet tea, and we all order food—more barbecue shrimp for me (because I love it, and I’m actually hungry for once), Italian sandwich for Elaine, and a bowl of gumbo for our guest.

The server leaves, and her golden eyes latch onto mine. The way she’s looking at me makes my insides squirm.

“You did something. I can sense it.” She reaches out and touches my hand. “Your scent has changed.”

Elaine’s brows pull together, then she leans into me and inhales deeply. “Mmm,” she exhales. “Just smells like Derek to me. She did sleep with him.”

“Seriously?” I whisper-hiss. “No more privacy for me?”

“You had sex…” Mariska says the words slowly, assessing me, and I know she’s figuring it out. Even Elaine knew what might happen when my orgasm peaked. She looks back and forth at us.

“What?” Elaine says. “Someone tell me what’s going on. I can’t hear her anymore.”

“Keep an open mind,” I say.

“I knew it.” Mariska leans back in her seat. “Your skin is flushed and glowing.”

“He asked me to do it.” My gaze lowers to the table, but I can feel the judgment rolling off her.

“Do what?” Elaine grabs my arm.

I only blink up at her, and she instantly drops it and scoots toward Mariska. “You bit him?” she hisses.

My voice is barely audible as I try to explain. “It’s a very sexual act. In the moment, it feels right.”

We’re all quiet. My words hang in the air when the waiter appears with a large tray and our orders. I’m thankful for the distraction. Plates are situated in front of us, wine and tea glasses refreshed. When he’s finally gone, Elaine breaks the silence.

“So you took the next step,” she says. “What does that mean?”

Mariska quickly corrects her. “It’s different, actually. She can…” glancing around, she lowers her voice. “She can do it to him. He can even do it to her—”

“He can?” I don’t mean to sound excited. They both glare at me, and I blush, looking down again. “Sorry. It’s just… it’s a powerful experience.”

Elaine presses her lips together in a disapproving way and turns back to Mariska. “But how is that possible? Mel did it and look at her.”

“She’s not a vampire yet.” The young woman lifts a spoon of gumbo to her mouth. I fork one of my shrimp thinking about what that means.

“I’ve been reading everything I can get my hands on,” Mariska continues, glancing up at me. “Drinking your blood might be a good idea. It will give him extrasensory abilities, enhanced libido, strength. It quickly flushes out of his system. It’s only temporary.”

“Sounds like their ritual before a hunt,” Elaine says, nodding. “Patrick told me about it last night. Or I saw images of it, and he explained what I was seeing.”

Something inside me quickens. A light seems to flicker on. “What ritual?”

Elaine’s just taken a bite of spicy provolone and cheese, and she nods as she tries to get it down. “It’s like a transfusion. It allows them to communicate telepathically when they’re doing jobs. They did it yesterday evening.”

“Oh my god, Elaine!” I lower my fork. “That’s what happened!”

This time Mariska looks at us confusedly. “Catch me up.”

“You mentioned a cure involving shifter blood and verbena root?”

She nods. “I have a vial of verbena serum for you here.” She digs in her purse a moment before pulling out a small glass container on a leather strap. “Wear this around your neck. It’ll protect you from your maker. Don’t spill it on yourself, though.”

Cautiously, I reach for the little vial of bright chartreuse liquid. “Thank you,” I whisper.

Elaine bounces in her seat as she continues. “Derek had shifter blood in his veins last night! You have shifter blood in you now! It’s how you were able to sleep—it’s why you’re not hearing his voice!”

Mariska’s jaw drops and she studies me a moment. “How are you feeling? Are you in pain?”

“No.” I shake my head, remembering last night, remembering the first night when I stole his blood. The foreign element, the burning I couldn’t understand. “At first, right after I did it, I felt a strange sensation. It only lasted a little while before it dispersed.”

“You were able to stand the pain?” Mariska’s head cocks to the side, and I can tell she’s calculating. “Your pain tolerance must be very high.”

“More like Derek’s not a real shifter,” Elaine says. “What you got was diluted by his blood and then further diluted by yours.”

Mariska grabs Elaine’s arm. “We need to meet with your shifter. Can you get him here now?”

“No!” I almost shout. They both glare at me, and I quickly explain. “I can’t be around him. It makes me violently ill.” Not as violently as the new one, but it’s still unbearable.

My phone buzzes, and I pull it from my clutch without thinking. I’ve been waiting all morning, and the moment I see the face, a huge grin splits my cheeks. It’s Derek. Where are you? Want to see you now.

“Wow,” Elaine mutters. “Somebody’s got it bad.”

“You’re one to talk,” I tease. “Miss Imprinted.”

“You imprinted?” Mariska looks up fast.

Elaine’s eyes cut to me. “It’s actually the other way around. Patrick imprinted on me. But I’m very happy with the arrangement.”

The girl’s shoulders drop, and she pulls away. “That’s nice for you,” she says in a voice that sounds like she means the opposite. “I mean, if you’re happy with the situation.”

Elaine is frowning at her now. “I’m very happy with it. Patrick is perfect for me.”

Mariska only nods. “He would be perfect.”

My best friend and I exchange a glance. She’s giving us a peek at her own fantasy, whether she realizes it or not. I only hope Elaine’s not offended. Mariska clearly had additional plans for our shifter besides helping me break the vampire curse.

“He is, and you want me to call him here?” My best friend’s tone tells me she’s not at all worried about Mariska’s disappointment. I’m hastily replying to my text as she continues. “I guess you’re heading out to meet Derek. Will you even finish lunch?”

I’m finishing my text telling him where we are. “If Patrick’s coming here, I won’t be able to eat.”

Mariska is thoughtful again. “I’ll see if there’s an antidote to dull your vampire blood’s reaction to him.”

Her words almost make me feel embarrassed. “I’m so messed up,” I mutter.

At once my hand is in Elaine’s grip. “Don’t do that! I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you happy. Hold onto that. Look how much progress we’ve made!”

A bustling at the entrance causes the three of us to turn. I immediately recognize the tall form of Derek silhouetted in the doorway, and a riot of butterflies swirls through my insides. Images of last night flood my brain, and when he smiles at me, my face heats along with my entire body. As he gets closer, however, I’m aware of a dull cramping in my stomach.

“Sorry I had to leave this morning.” The sound of his voice erases the pain, and I slide out of the booth to greet him.

He moves to kiss my cheek, and I see the reason for my discomfort. Patrick is right behind him, smiling curiously at me.

Elaine notices and touches my hand. “Are you okay?”

I pause a moment, waiting before I answer. “Just a slight irritation.”

Mariska evaluates the two males before hopping out of the booth. “You’ll want to sit by Elaine,” she says, touching Patrick’s arm.

He gives her a wink before scooting in beside my friend. Elaine glows like the sun as he drapes an arm over her shoulder and pulls her into his side.

“It’s not him,” Mariska says softly before turning to me. “You’re not having a reaction?”

“No,” I shake my head, glancing at Patrick and back at her. “A little discomfort, but not like before.”

Derek’s large hands move to the top of my shoulders. “What’s making you uncomfortable?”

I study the front of his golf shirt, stretched attractively across his chest. “Remember how I told you being around Patrick made me ill?”

“Hey!” His partner calls out, and I want to smile.

Derek’s brow quirks. “It’s not happening now.” The way he says it, I’m sure he’s putting the pieces together. My suspicion is confirmed when he leans down and says, “Were you okay last night… with me?”

“At first it burned some, but it went away fast.”

His eyes soften, and he reaches up to slide a thumb over my cheek. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“You’re forgetting what it felt like when we did it.”

“No, I’m not.” The sexy tone in his voice spreads heat through my lower stomach.

“You’re making me wet,” I whisper.

His eyes darken. “Should we visit the restroom?”

Elaine’s loud voice cuts the growing tension. “Are you two joining us?”

He leans back, and the look that passes between us could launch a rocket. “I suppose we should join them.”

Nodding, I follow him to the table. Elaine has introduced Mariska and explained her role in our situation.

Patrick greets me with a casual tease. “You’re the lady having vampire troubles?”

Even though it’s a joke, I can’t help feeling embarrassed. “I hate to pull complete strangers into my mess.”

Derek’s arm goes around my waist. “We’re not strangers.”

Blinking up at him, I manage a smile. “You’re not,” I say softly.

“I don’t feel like a stranger,” Mariska jumps in. “And I’m happy to help. It’s exciting!”

He looks at her. “And you are?”

“Mariska.” She’s on her feet. “My grandmother is Demeter. From Algiers?”

“The witch.” His eyebrows rise. “I know her by reputation.”

“Witch isn’t really an accurate term for what she does.”

“Sorry,” Derek nods. Then he turns to me. “Voodoo queen. What brought you two together?”

I gesture to my best friend. “Elaine used her psychic connections.”

He touches my nose. “Seems you don’t need me at all.”

“Oh, you’re wrong,” Mariska jumps in. “You’ve become a critical piece in the puzzle.”

“How so?” he looks at her amused.

“It seems your little…” She waves her hand between us. “Exchange last night uncovered a potential fix.”

Derek clears his throat, and glances down. “You told them?”

“Told us what?” Patrick looks up from where he and Elaine are sharing a private tête-à-tête consisting of smiles and soft laughter.

“My friend got a little hungry last night.” Elaine gives him a wink, but his expression turns fierce. If she weren’t blocking him, he’d be on his feet grabbing me.

“What the fuck?”

Derek extends a strong arm. “Take it easy. It doesn’t concern you.”

“Fucking concerns me if you end up dead and drained.”

“Oh god,” I whisper. “I’m sorry.” Turning in my seat, I have a straight shot for the door, and I take it.

I’m down the short flight of stairs, out on the flagstone sidewalk, when Derek catches me, cornering me between a white stucco column and a curtained window. His large body shields me from the street traffic.

“Where are you going?” A smile is in his voice, but I’m on the verge of tears.

“He’s right. I can’t risk your life like this.”

“It’s my decision, and I want to help you.”

Holding his arms, I can’t stop a shiver. “If anything happened to you. If I couldn’t stop—”

“You will. You controlled it last night. You’ll control it again.”

Shaking my head, my fingers tighten on his biceps. “You have no idea how hard it is to control.” His nearness, his breath against my skin sends desire racing to my core. “I can barely control it now.”

His head lowers, his breath a warm whisper at my cheek. “What are you feeling right now?”

Lifting my chin, I take a deep inhale of his masculine scent. My nose just touches his collarbone, following the line of his neck higher. My insides clench, and I feel his muscles respond to my nearness, beckoning me on. His pulse is just beneath his skin. A whispered moan exhales through my lips as they part, allowing me to touch him with my tongue.

With a hiss, I realize my fangs are out. I’m on the street, in the middle of a mercifully overcast day, on the edge of biting him again. My hand flies to cover my mouth, and I see desire burning in his navy eyes.

“Oh, god, Derek.” I can barely speak between my changed features and my hand.

He shocks me when he only grins. “Glad I’m not the only one who can’t hide how attracted I am to you.” A shift of his hips, and I feel the erection nudging my thigh.

It’s exactly what I needed, because a little laugh chokes out with my frightened tears. He pulls my face to his chest while we both attempt to regain control.

“Deep breaths, my love. I’m not going anywhere, and you’re not going to hurt me.”

I’m clinging to his arms when I hear the sound of sandals on flagstone. Elaine’s voice joins us over my shoulder.

“Here you are.” Her tone is apologetic. “Patrick’s sorry. His response was instinctive. Won’t you come back inside? We do need to plan.” Derek’s holding me in a protective stance, but my best friend’s eyes fly wide. I know she sees the sharp white tips of my teeth.

“Oh, god, no!” Tears are in her eyes, and her chin drops. Just as fast, she shakes her head rapidly. “I’m sorry. I can handle this.”

My heart breaks because I know she can’t. I know how badly I freaked out the first time I saw myself changed. Derek’s embrace tightens.

“Just give us a minute,” he says in his deep, calming voice. “We’re coming back.”

I see the tremor in my friend’s hand as she nods. “I’ll let them know.”

Without looking at me again, she spins on her heel and heads back into the restaurant. I rest my head against Derek’s strong chest. She’ll most likely spend every night with Patrick for the duration.

“She’s afraid of me,” I sigh.

“She loves you,” he says, smoothing my back with his large hand. “She won’t turn on you.”

My body relaxes at his words and his touches, and I can’t help remembering my words to him last night, my realization of how attached I’ve become. Pushing those emotions aside, I feel my body has returned to normal and step out of his arms.

“I’m ready to go back.”

He gives me a little smile, touching my cheek. “Let’s figure this out.”

11

Change of Plans Derek

Patrick’s expression is smug when we return to the restaurant. While I appreciate his overprotectiveness, I’m irritated by how much it upset Melissa. At this point, only Elaine and I know how much this change is torturing her.

Mariska cuts the tension, returning us to our previous discussion. She’s a pretty girl, and while she might not possess her grandmother’s power, she’s eager to learn.

“So the side-effect of Melissa ingesting shifter blood via your blood is our cure becomes more tolerable.” She smiles brightly.

I can’t hide my surprise. “You know of a cure?”

“I’m sure you know the easiest solution is to kill her maker.”

That earns a grimace from Patrick. “It’s hardly easy.”

“Compared to the alternative,” she frowns right back at him.

“Which is?”

“Shifter blood mingled with verbena root in a draught. She drinks it, and it burns the maker’s blood right out of her system.”

Melissa’s face goes pale, and I take her hand. “You’re right,” I say. “We have to kill her maker.”

“But Derek,” she whispers. “Mariska said you could be killed.”

Warmth stirs in my chest for her. I give her a smile, smoothing her hair off her cheek. “What do you think I did last night?”

Mariska nods, “You’re very skilled. But what if we found another way to free her that doesn’t require any pain or hand to hand combat.”

“Go on,” I say.

“If we can go through you—get the shifter blood into her through you—it cuts the pain factor.” The girl bounces a little in her seat. “And we can track how much she needs to flush him out.”

Memories of the pain I experience taking shifter blood only briefly passes through my head. I’d gladly take Melissa’s pain. However… “How would we do it?”

“I have an idea,” she says. “You’re the only vampire hunter who takes regular shifter transfusions. You’re also the only vampire hunter who’s asked to be bitten by a hybrid.”

I see Melissa’s discomfort and try to move things along. “Never mind what I do. What’s the procedure?”

“From what I’ve read, traditionally, the mixture of the verbena root and shifter blood is drunk as a potion.” She pauses, thinking. “If we do it this way, I suppose we would need to hook up a constant transfusion of shifter blood into your veins while Melissa drinks from you.”

Melissa and I exchange a glance. Having Stuart and Patrick in the room while we’re in the orgasmic throes of her bite is not an option.

“We need another way,” I say quickly.

“What the fuck?” Patrick is suddenly with us. “Why the hell not? At least that way I can keep an eye on her.”

Melissa’s face reddens, and I glare at him. “The experience is… private. We don’t want an audience.”

Mariska blinks fast as she formulates another plan. “Okay…” Her full pink lip slips beneath her front teeth. “What’s the most shifter blood you’ve ever taken?”

“Last night was the most,” I answer.

“And it almost knocked you out.” Patrick adds.

“That’s enough.” I snap.

Melissa throws up her hands. “It’s all enough. It isn’t going to work.”

“Hang on!” Elaine catches her arm, pulling it down. “Let’s think about this. Mariska suggested one possibility. Here’s another: if Derek’s blood is a buffer from the pain. Is there a way to make the potion using his blood as a sort of… sedative?”

We’re all quiet a moment. “It’s worth a try, I guess,” Mariska says. “Let me go back and collect the notes I have. Can we meet again tomorrow?”

“Yes,” I say quickly. “I’ve got to meet with Stuart. See what he was able to find out.”

“Stuart?” The girl’s strange golden eyes catch mine.

“Patrick’s older brother.”

“The man from last night!” Melissa says. “He’s very strong.”

“He’s the alpha of the Knight clan.” I glance at Patrick.

Mariska’s eyes seem to glow. “Stuart,” she says softly.

“Find another way,” I say, leveling my gaze at her before turning to Melissa. “Not sure how long I’ll be. I’ll call or text and we can have dinner if it’s not too late?”

She nods and gives me a little smile. I hate leaving her in such a vulnerable state, but I have to find out what Stuart learned. I am relieved her issues with Patrick seem to be resolved for now, as I’ve charged him with keeping an eye on her while I’m away. What I fail to recall is her friend’s psychic abilities, and it’s just then I realize her green eyes have been focused on me for the last several minutes.

“We’ll spend the afternoon at the French Market, won’t we, Mel?” Elaine pulls on her arm and Melissa nods half-heartedly.

Patrick exhales in feigned tolerance. “At least it won’t be as hot outside.”

Elaine elbows him playfully then turns back to me with a little wink. Hmm. At least if she’s picking through my thoughts, she’s working with me.

“Yes, I am,” she says, surprising me.

“Thank you. I’ve never worked with a telepath.”

“You’re welcome. Keep in mind I’m listening.”

“Noted.”

We stand and make our way to the door. Melissa holds my arm, and I hold her slim, ivory hand. “Stay with your friend. I’ll be back soon.”

“I feel less anxious when you’re around,” she confesses, and protective warmth fills my chest.

“I’m happy you feel that way. I’ve got my phone.”

Touching her cheek one last time, I give Patrick a nod before stepping into the crowd headed east on Royal Street. I’ll only be a few hours, and I’ll be back with her. He knows what to do in the meantime, and how to find me if anything goes wrong.

Melissa

Last night’s deluge followed by today’s overcast skies has driven most people indoors it seems. Fewer tourists crowd the sidewalks in the French Quarter this afternoon. My full night’s sleep has me restless and edgy, and while I’m thankful Elaine wants us to spend the day strolling in the colorful outdoor market, I can’t relax.

The possibility of Derek facing the one who made me sickens my stomach, and I hope with everything in my power Mariska can find a way for the second cure to work without us having an audience.

As we walk, we pause occasionally to look in shop windows at elaborate feather-trimmed Halloween masks, displays of alligators in witch hats, and voodoo gris-gris. Demeter’s criticism of Philome floats through my mind.

In the past I would be amused by the novelty of these things. I didn’t believe any of it, despite having a psychic best friend. Now I know all too well how real the paranormal is, and I want nothing to do with it. I want my old life back. I want to move home to Wilmington with Elaine, find a cottage by the beach, and continue working with my clients on their marketing needs.

“Try on this bracelet, Mel.” Elaine holds out a thick leather strap with a large brass cross in the center.

Before taking it, I give her a quick glance, wondering if she’s testing old myths. If so, I can tell her crosses don’t bother me. I wrap the chunky piece around my slim wrist and fasten the knotted enclosure.

“It looks great on you!” she says. “Get it!”

“No thanks.” Shaking my head, I take it off. I’m not up for mementos of this trip. I only want to be free.

She shrugs and catches Patrick’s hand as they continue walking ahead of me. They haven’t stopped touching each other since lunch. He steals samples of pralines and feeds them to her, and she laughs. She finds black masks and holds them over his eyes. Hazel-green smolders at her, and her entire body flushes. They’re like blissed-out honeymooners, and I’m the ominous black cloud stalking their bubble of sunshine.

I hate not knowing what Derek is doing. The idea he might take matters into his own hands has me an anxious wreck. I want to run to the hotel and hide and chew my nails in worry. It’s an incredibly unhealthy approach to the situation, but I feel so overwhelmed.

As we stroll down Decatur Street in the direction of Café du Monde, my eyes travel across Jackson Square, the courtyard surrounding St. Louis cathedral. Paintings of oversized tribal masks hang on the black wrought iron fence enclosing the space. The artists sit in small chairs under umbrellas with their cash boxes.

Mellow horses wait patiently in front of brightly colored Cinderella carriages, and farther down, a four-piece street band consisting of an upright bass, a banjo, a sousaphone, and a trumpet starts playing “When the Saints Go Marching In,” the official fight-song of the New Orleans Saints football team.

Sugar seems to float in the air, and every door we pass is filled with laughter and music. I’m an alien in this city where everyone is cheerful and singing, and my head aches from the pressure.

When I look up, we’ve reached the beige façade entrance to the French Market. Passing under the enormous arch, produce stands holding hot sauce and creole spices in vibrant Mardi Gras packaging meet us first. Patrons sit at bars and sample local beer or sweet tea and eat blackened Cajun burgers or catfish po-boys. As we continue walking, we reach the rows of tables holding textiles.

Merchants from the Caribbean hawk Rastafarian garb and wooden masks. Silver merchants have necklaces, rings, bracelets, and earrings. The prices are astonishingly low, and while the foot traffic on the streets is thin, every table in the market has a crowd. It’s a bustling, noisy mass of shopping and shouting.

I don’t know how much time has passed. I can’t get my mind to settle on anything, and even with all the lively sights and sounds, the minutes seem to pass with leaden feet. All I can think about is Derek.

Between stealing kisses, Elaine remembers I’m following behind them and drops back to join me, taking my hand. “What’s going on in your head?”

It’s a funny question coming from her. One I’ve never had the privilege of answering before. “Nothing and everything,” I say with a smile.

Her cheek touches my shoulder briefly. “I wish I could do more to help you. I’ve never felt so useless.”

“You’re incredibly helpful! You try to keep my spirits up, and you’re guarding me now—”

“Patrick’s the guard on this trip,” she sighs.

Wrapping my arm around her narrow waist, I give her a little squeeze. “You’re right. He’s very nice and very sexy. You’re a lucky girl.”

She practically bounces in place. “I told you! You couldn’t know because of your… situation, but he’s…” Her eyes get a dreamy look and she shakes her head.

“No words?” I tease gently.

“More like too many words.”

We walk around a wood merchant selling everything from boxes to canes to pipes, and my friend skips ahead to see what her boyfriend is investigating. I stop and look at a wooden puzzle box in the shape of a heart. It’s made of three large, interlocking pieces in a striped wood of deep rose and blonde.

I almost drop it when a male voice materializes in my head. There you are.

My eyes snap up, and with trembling hands, I put the box down. Frantically, I search the bustling crowd for his face. An Asian woman in a pink shirt replaces a drawer of rings, never looking up. A middle-aged female in a grey shirt walks past with her bored teenage daughter right behind her.

Scanning quickly across the space, I see a girl in a light green tank top and bun examining a panel of feather earrings. My heart beats wildly as I scan the place trying to find him.

I’m here now. I’m coming for you.

Walking backwards, I slam into a table of bags, sending them spilling to the ground like cards from a deck. My entire body is shaking and sweating, and my head jerks side-to-side frantically trying to find him.

“Mel?” Through my panic, I hear my friend’s voice calling me, but as she draws closer, the nausea rips through my stomach.

“Oh, god!” I gasp, staggering away. The market is open-air, and in ten steps I’m stumbling onto Decatur Street, holding my mouth.

Elaine is right behind me, her brow lined with concern. “Melissa! Are you okay?” She runs toward me, but Patrick is right behind her. With every step he takes, I’m pushed further up the lane toward Chartres Street. Royal is only another block up, and while we’re a good ten blocks east of our hotel, his presence is enough to send me running all the way.

“Stay back!” I hear Elaine shout, and I know she’s realized what’s happening. The shifter blood has left my system. It’s all crashing down. Not only is my immunity to Patrick gone, but I’m back on his radar.

He’s here in New Orleans, and the idea makes my entire body quake with fear. Elaine is with me, holding my arm, concern lining her pretty face.

“Oh, Lainey,” I gasp, trying not to cry. “He’s here. He’s coming for me.”

She grips my arm tight, her jaw setting. “We’re all here with you now. We won’t let him take you.”

Shaking my head, I look down. “If only it were that simple.”

I know what she doesn’t. Even if I had an army standing guard to fight against him, his blood is in my veins. I can’t resist him. We all want to save me, but he controls me. I can’t resist the pull of my maker.

Derek

The slim woman with a jet-black beehive and velvet-red lips watches me from behind a table. Her eyes are painted with thick, sweeping cat eyeliner, and her skin is white as ivory except for the long sleeves of tattoos down both arms.

“I don’t trust him,” she says, her voice deep, a notch above a purr.

“That makes two of us,” I say through an exhale.

“Where’s Patrick?” she demands.

Stuart paces the warehouse apartment off South Peters, looking up at the enormous windows allowing the grey light of the overcast sky to fill the room. This place used to store cotton.

“My little brother is guarding the target.” He’s frustrated, but Stuart has never been as easy with the subculture as Patrick. “I need you to tell us what you know.”

“What are you doing in New Orleans, Mr. Alexander?” She levels her black eyes on me. “Your region is the East Coast. You’re breaking the rules.”

I watch as she lifts a thin, tattoo-covered arm to light a long black cigarette.

“I’m here on a personal matter,” I say, not backing down.

“The information you want from me isn’t personal.” A stream of blue smoke curls from her lips.