One Immortal - Tia Louise Page 0,16
taking longer than usual for me to calm down after a hunt. “I’m only immune to their hypnosis. If I hadn’t brought that gun…”
My partner’s lips press into a tight line. “We need Stuart here.”
I nod. I’d already thought of that. “He’ll be here tomorrow.” That’s how it is with Stuart and me. I call, he appears, and vice versa. “Did you have any idea what we were walking into?”
“Are you seriously asking me that right now?” Patrick isn’t one for sarcasm, and I only laugh.
“Then we really are a couple of lucky sons of bitches.”
“Damn straight.”
An icy chill passes down my spine at how wrong tonight could have gone. It isn’t often an unprepared vampire hunter and a weredog—even a young, strong shifter like Patrick—walk into a nest of vampires and make it out with only a scratch. I’m wrestling a mixture of fatigue, relief, and uncanny amusement.
“We are so fucking lucky.” I exhale, rubbing my hands over my face.
“Sazerac,” Patrick says to the bartender. We’re sitting at the bar in Razoo’s off Bourbon Street, and my partner is jumpy. I can’t stop drumming my fingers on the shiny wood in front of me.
“What exactly did you read in Sloan’s journal?” At this point it doesn’t really matter. Still, I’m curious, passing the time, waiting for us to come down. I can’t shake the image of that nightmarish clown-face, that grinning undead fucker coming down the wall at me headfirst like a giant fucking lizard. Shit.
“Nothing like what we encountered.” Patrick shakes his head, taking a sip of his cocktail. “Sloan’s notes said ‘an old one with answers’ lives in the crypt in Lafayette cemetery. It said if we went with flowers, played the role of gracious mourners, he’d talk to us.”
“Looks like he got bored with gracious mourners. Decided to turn a few.”
“No shit.”
Razoo’s is also a karaoke bar, and a young south Asian-looking woman approaching the mic draws my attention. She’s sexy with long, wavy black hair. I try to let her swaying and singing ease my mood, but it isn’t working. Her dark eyes only make me yearn for sapphire blue. I want Melissa. I want to burn off this excess energy in her arms.
“We should’ve stayed close tonight, done more research.” I should’ve been at Mr. B’s.
“That sounds like you’re second-guessing me.” Patrick’s itching for a fight, but I’m not interested.
“I’m not,” I answer honestly. “Just post-mortem.”
A group of drunken college kids stumble through the doors, laughing and adding to the crowd coming in off of Bourbon Street. It’s so late in the evening, I have no reason to believe anyone I’d want to see might come here. Melissa would be with her friend Elaine, most likely dining at Brennan’s or Galatoire’s, then heading back to her hotel to sleep, her beautiful dark waves spread out over her pillow.
“Fucking no way.” Patrick’s hiss cuts through my distraction. “It can’t be.”
Snapping to attention, I can’t help wondering if our friends are back. “What is it?”
He doesn’t answer, and I follow the line of his sight to the door. A beautiful blonde stands just inside, off the street. She seems a little lost, as if she’s looking for someone or trying to decide if she’ll stay.
I’m ready to guess she’ll leave, but her eyes move as if directed by an invisible guide directly to my partner.
I turn and look at him as well. His posture is as confident and strong as ever, but his expression is stunned. He’s trying to play it off, but something is happening to him.
“Do you know her?”
“No.” He looks down at the bar, his voice barely controlled.
“She’s headed in our direction.” Looking up, I see the confident smile on her lips. It’s as if she’s aware of her power over him. “You sure you’ve never—”
“It’s Patrick, right?” Her tone is happy, like she’s found something she lost.
My partner straightens, facing her, and though I’ve never seen it before, I know exactly what’s happening.
“Yes,” he says in a husky voice. “Elaine?”
“Yes!” Her green eyes sparkle, and she touches his arm. His entire body stills at her caress. “We were walking by, and I knew you were here.”
She laughs, but he only smiles.
Fuck me, Patrick’s imprinting. If I thought we needed Stuart before, we sure as hell need him now. I have no idea how finding his mate is going to impact his performance.
As much as I’ve wanted this to happen, it irritates the shit out of me it’s happening now, until I glance