One Immortal - Tia Louise Page 0,46

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.