One Immortal - Tia Louise Page 0,66

moves my friend out, holding her at arms’ length. “You hear me?” She nods her pale blonde head rapidly. “Listen to me as long as you can. I’ll tell you if you need to hide, go underground, run as far from here as you can get.”

Her eyes widen a bit, but she nods again.

“I won’t lose you,” he finishes, moving his hands to her shoulders. He looks up at Demeter then. “Use your strongest magic. Cover the house. You can’t fight him, but you can protect this place.”

The old woman’s lips pucker. “I’ve encountered strong ones before, cher. Your lady will be safe.”

Patrick’s breathing is fast, and I sense his desperation. Defying his alpha’s direct order is a unique stressor on its own, but leaving his mate unguarded is worse. Ice floods my veins as understanding fills me. He would only leave her if someone were about to die.

I shudder, thinking of Derek so far away. Oh, god, don’t let him be killed…

* * *

Derek

Stuart drums his fingers on the glossy wooden bar in Chartres House. “It’s not smart working with an unproven witch.”

“Patrick trusts her,” I say, lifting a tumbler of scotch to my lips. “And with him in Algiers, we don’t have a choice.”

He props an elbow on the ledge. “Too much is wrong with this situation. Our mission was finding Alison’s killer. We should be back in Princeton finishing that job. We’ve taken a personal detour, and now you’re carrying vampire blood in your veins. We’re not prepared, and if something happens to you—”

Normally, talk like this would piss me off, but I’ve served with this man in combat. He saved my life. Of all the people in the world I should listen to, he’s one of them. I manage to control my temper.

“Nothing’s going to happen to me,” I say. “Yes, it’s a personal detour, but it’s not outside our mission. We’re after justice, Stuart.” The vampire’s plans to torture Melissa flicker across my mind, the wooden box. “Tonight is about justice. Trust me.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

Nodding, I accept his concession, even though I know he’s right. We’re vulnerable. We haven’t traded blood. Patrick is miles away. We’re facing one of the strongest vampires I’ve ever encountered—stronger than my immunity. If I didn’t believe emphatically time is of the essence, we wouldn’t be here right now.

I’m mentally calculating all our weaknesses when Star pushes through the door. She’s different, although I shouldn’t be surprised. She’s a witch in New Orleans. Dealing with the undead is second nature to her.

She looks around the room, chin lifted as if inspecting her domain. Her eyes light on me, and a thin dark brow arches. A smirk curls her velvet-red lips, and she crosses the small space, slim hips swaying under a long, black dress.

Her dark eyes sweep slowly from my waist to my face, and I have to confess, she’s good. She’s everything those undead fuckers love—rich, confident, and dripping with sex.

“How about you buy me a drink.” Her deep voice is sassy.

The bartender, along with all the straight men in the room, picks up his jaw and asks what we’re having.

“Scotch neat,” I say. I don’t have to ask. I know Star is a scotch drinker. Actually, I’m betting she’s more of a whiskey gal.

The small barroom returns to business as usual, and the bartender scurries off. Stuart hasn’t moved from leaning on the bar beside me. Irritation rolls off him in waves, but Star doesn’t seem to notice.

She looks up at me, speaking quietly. “My neck, arms, and wrists are all exposed. The slit in this dress provides access to my inner thighs…”

The bartender’s back, and I nod, slipping him a twenty. He’ll take care of us and leave us alone at the same time. Once he’s gone, she continues.

“I spent the last hour drinking a tea of verbena root, mountain ash, and wild rose. If he swallows even an ounce of my blood, he’ll be weak enough for you to kill him.” She slants a dark eye at Stuart. “A dose of shifter blood would make me practically invincible.”

My partner clears his throat and straightens, taking a hit of scotch.

She faces him then, amusement flickering in her dark eyes. “How about it, wolf? Care to step into the alley for a quickie?”

“No thanks,” he grumbles not making eye contact.

Her grin is wicked as she takes a long pull off the drink I ordered her. “You act like you haven’t been laid in a