before dawn, but I’m not afraid. I’m the most dangerous thing they’ll encounter tonight.
Not in a hurry to return to my hotel, I take Toulouse Street, away from the bars and the dying noise of revelry, toward the river. I walk slowly up the damp alley, under balconies of black wrought iron. Dark-green ivy climbs the sides of hotels and apartments, transforming their hard edges into rounded black shapes.
If my night vision weren’t so acute, they would look like hulking monsters, swaying toward the levee. The air is heavy and damp, and even without the sun it’s warm. Could it be another reason so many of my kind come to this city? The heat disguises the cold of our skin. Only, my skin isn’t cold yet.
My eyes… I’m not sure what my eyes look like this morning. I drank his blood, so it’s possible they have a faint red hue. Oh, god, I hope they don’t. I’m not sure I can handle seeing that, and it won’t help me with Elaine and Mariska. A shiver passes over my shoulders, and I hug my arms across my chest. I’ve never felt so alone in my life.
I wonder if Elaine is in our room. Somehow I know she isn’t. We’d been walking back from dinner at Antoine’s last night when she asked to take a detour through Bourbon Street. I had no desire to be around loud, rowdy drunks. Still, I went with her to the crowded street.
She was looking for someone, but she wouldn’t tell me who. I watched as she followed the voice in her head—or the sensation of a voice. I’m not sure how her power works. I’ve only watched her use it since we were little girls. When we arrived at the place, she left me to go to him.
It was the same man she met in Maspero’s before lunch, and I had the same sickening response to his presence. My stomach roiled, and I couldn’t enter. I could only hide behind the pane of glass and watch them talking, her touching his arm. He was incredibly attractive and seemed very sure of himself, yet when she touched him, he stilled as if she had some influence over him.
My brow lined as I focused on them, not understanding what was happening. Then Derek appeared, and I forgot Elaine. I forgot everything but him. For a moment, I close my eyes and savor the memory of last night. All of it is as vivid as the sunrise in my mind.
Turning west, I walk back toward our hotel. When I reach the Hotel Monteleone, a pale glow is just lighting the edge of the horizon. My eyes are heavy. Our room is empty as I suspected. Digging my phone out of my bag, I see a text from her. She sent it hours ago, when I was still blissfully wrapped in Derek’s arms.
Am with Patrick. See you tomorrow. Lunch with Mariska.
Crawling into my bed, I study the words. Patrick. The man from the bar. She’ll want me to meet him, and I’ll have to say no. I don’t even know why his presence makes me so violently ill. I don’t know anything about the changes happening inside me. Again, waves of loneliness consume me.
Lunch. Mariska. If only she has answers. A yawn surprises me. The sun streams through our windows, and with a groan, I pull myself out of the bed to close the heavy blackout drapes. I barely make it back before I fall into a deep sleep.
* * *
Derek
Stuart sits across the booth from me studying his menu with a frown. I touch the lip of my coffee cup, but I’m not thirsty. I’m not hungry. I’m angry and frustrated and miserable. I opened my eyes this morning and Melissa was gone. No note, no number, nothing.
The last I remember is waking to see her sitting in the silvery moonlight looking like a goddess. She told me I was dreaming, but no dream of mine was ever that beautiful. I wanted to take her, carry her back to bed and make love to her, but strangely, sleep overwhelmed me. When I opened my eyes again, she was gone. After everything we said last night, everything we did, she still walked out.
I want to forget her. I want to say fuck it and wash my hands of the situation. The problem is I can’t. I’m drawn to her in some inexplicable way. She’s like a drug, and being apart