are dressed for combat—or at least I am. Stuart’s dressed for shifting in loose cotton pants and a thin white tank. He bends an elbow, and our witch openly admires his muscles.
Star is dressed in black jeans and a white tank. A black leather jacket covers the ink on her arms, and instead of the usual beehive, this evening she wears a black leather cowboy hat.
My partner only distracts her a moment before her attention returns to me, and a smile curves her red lips. “You want me to hypnotize you.”
I’m impatient with games, and I don’t have time for repeating myself. “We need information.”
Taking off her hat, she shakes her straight, dyed-black hair, before removing her jacket as well. “I’m not used to men like you willingly putting themselves in my power.”
“Men like me?”
“Perhaps I should say I’m not used to seeing men like you afraid.”
“I’m not afraid.”
A thin black eyebrow arches. Sitting here, thinking over what she’s saying and what I’m asking her to do, I revise that.
“Fear isn’t the right word—at least not in the traditional sense. I’m concerned for the safety of another person. I need to find the… Thing that poses a threat to her.”
“The thing?” The witch begins moving around the empty space, first drawing a large, chalk circle on the dark wood floor around us both.
“He’s facing one of our kind.” Stuart’s deep voice cuts through the quiet.
She glances up at him. “Surely you can track another shifter without my help.”
I answer for my partner. “We’re not after a shifter. We’re after a vampire. I’ve got its blood in my veins. I want to try and track him through me.”
Silence fills the room, and Star’s lips press into a thin line. She doesn’t speak as she continues making a large pentagram inside the circle on the floor, and I step away to avoid blocking her progress. Without a word, she goes to an armoire hidden in the back corner.
She returns with two white pillar candles, each about a foot in height. “So you’re hunting a vampire, and you’ve somehow taken its blood.”
I watch as she places the candles at two points and returns to the armoire for three more.
“You realize what could happen, I’m sure.” She finishes arranging the candles, and the explosion of a match illuminates her face with yellow light.
“He knows what could happen.” Stuart is impatient. I’m a bit impatient as well, because while I know Melissa is hidden, I don’t know when the vampire might find her.
Her black eyes flash at him. “I want to hear him say what he knows.”
“We don’t have time for this,” I growl. “I know what can happen if I’m killed with vampire blood in my veins.”
“Fastest route to immortality I know of.” Her voice is wry.
Candles lit, she places a chair in the center of the pentagram. Her slim, ink-covered arms are bare. One hand on her hip, she gestures to the chair. “Let’s get started.”
Putting myself in the power of a witch is not the smartest thing I’ve ever done. If I hadn’t encountered that thing in the street, the idea would never have entered my mind, but the truth is, Star is right. I’m afraid. Melissa’s maker is powerful. He wants her back, and the existence of me is infuriating to him. I’ve got to find him before he finds her.
“I need you to focus now.” Star’s voice has become monotone, slow and rhythmic. “May I call you Derek?”
“Yes.” My insides are tense, but I know to relax, let it happen. I have to let go of my control.
“How well do you know the city, Derek?”
“I grew up here. I can walk it in my sleep.”
“Speaking of sleep, let’s name the streets starting at the river and working toward midtown. I’ll start. Decatur… Chartres… Royal…”
My mind relaxes as we mentally walk the blocks, and I begin speaking with her. “Bourbon… Dauphine…”
“That’s right,” her voice soothes. “When we reach Rampart, you’ll be asleep. “Burgundy… Rampart…”
Darkness.
I don’t need light to see in the dark. I don’t need heat. I do need shelter.
My room is classic New Orleans. Washed brick walls with wood and beam ceilings. A curved, leather headboard adorns a large bed that won’t be used. To my right is a green velvet settee. A mahogany desk is situated in a corner. Thick, silk curtains hang over square windows overlooking a brick courtyard. Dozens of staircases and balconies with white bannisters.
None of it matters. The only thing that matters is finding her,