mixture of anger and concern are on Stuart’s face. “What the fuck happened to you?”
I’m moving swiftly around the room, pulling out the small gun, silver bullets, two wooden stakes, and a vial of verbena root oil. “I took a chance, and it might have backfired.”
“You smell like shit.”
Stopping, I face him. My stomach has been churning since he entered the room, but I chalked it up to my close encounter in the street. Stepping toward my partner, I notice the pain grows worse.
“What do you smell?” I ask, leaning in as much as I can tolerate.
“Vampire.”
“Call the witch.” I turn and go to the small dresser, pulling out jeans and a dark tee. “I need Patrick to handle some important business.”
Taking out my phone, I text Melissa. Need you to go with Elaine and Patrick to Algiers. Stay there until I come for you.
“What’s going on?” Stuart watches me. One of his hands is over his nose as if to shield him from my scent.
“I drank her blood.”
“What the hell?” That sends him pacing, shoving his hands in his hair. “Did she trick you into doing it?”
“I’m immune to their glamour. You know this.” Although now I’m not so sure. “It was my idea. She can hear him. I thought maybe I could, too.”
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Are you trying to become one?”
My phone vibrates and I pull it up. Melissa. I’m worried for you. Also, Patrick makes me sick.
Adrenaline has me bouncing off the walls still her reply makes me smile. I’ll ask him to stay downwind of you.
Thanks.
When I look up, Stuart’s brow is knit with concern. “What should I tell the witch?”
“Have her meet us at the warehouse. We need a hypnotism.”
“On you?”
I point to the window. “Just now, out on the street, he spoke to me. He followed me back to this hotel.”
“Jesus!” Stuart’s hands are in his hair again. “She said he’s a powerful one. An old one.”
“She’s right. He could have finished me.” I’m quiet, thinking. “I’m not sure why he didn’t. Unless he has something else in mind.”
“He’s still looking for her.”
The very suggestion sends my fingers instantly texting Patrick. Take our girls to Algiers Point. Hide them with Demeter and stand guard. Don’t let them out of your sight.
I don’t have to wait for his answer. On it, partner. Happy to spend the day with my lady.
Will alert you when it’s safe.
That just leaves our end of the bargain.
“We should pack up everyone, including the girls, go back to Princeton, and take care of Sloan.”
“Sloan’s not going anywhere,” I mutter, stepping into my boots. “I have to handle the vampire here now.”
My focus has shifted to Melissa. Her blood is in my veins, but even more, her essence is under my skin. The thought that he might find her without me clenches my chest. Patrick will guard her, and in Algiers with the voodoo queen she’s temporarily safe. Only one thing will ensure her permanent safety.
My partner’s eyes move around my face as I think, and something changes in his expression. “You say you encountered him in the street just now?” From his tone, I can tell he’s in planning-mode, and I’m glad he’s no longer fighting me.
“He hit me like a cannon to the gut.” I check the barrel of my small gun to be sure it’s loaded before shoving it into my boot. “I couldn’t see his face. It was like my eyes were clouded.”
Stuart pushes forward. “So he’s roaming the streets, circling for her scent.” With a nod, he picks up my small knife. It’s the one I used to pierce Melissa’s beautiful skin. “You probably saved her by creating a distraction, a variable he hadn’t expected.”
“I didn’t think of that, but it makes sense.” I’m only partly relieved. The other part of me fills in the blanks. He’s still searching, and he’s close.
“I’ll text Star we’re headed to the warehouse. We’ll make a plan once she’s there.”
14
Clues
Melissa
From the road, Demeter’s home in Algiers looks like a run-down shack, but as I walk through the quaint, shotgun house tucked away in one of the oldest communities in New Orleans, I’m aware that’s only a front. Much like the disguise of the old woman attempting to blend in among us mere mortals, this house holds way more than meets the eye.
Inside, leather-bound books with titles like Voodoo Queens of Old and Practical Conjuring sit on built-in shelves. Around the books, old pictures of slaves with their heads wrapped in scarves,