One Immortal - Tia Louise Page 0,7

sparkle as she bounces in place. “I think that’s incredibly significant!”

I test the shower water without answering. She has no idea how close I came to losing control. “Will we have to discuss it with Demeter?”

“Yes.” She answers so fast, I glance over my shoulder to meet her eyes. Her expression is serious. “I’ve never dealt with anything like this. I don’t even know if we have a chance, but I know we have to tell her everything.”

“I have to shower.”

My best friend nods and goes to the door. “As soon as you’re ready, we’ll get lunch then head across the river.”

I nod before stepping into the steamy box. Lifting my hair one last time, I inhale the sensual, woodsy smell of him. Again, intense sadness floods my core. I hate to lose him, yet I know it’s for the best. My body might crave him, but I can’t give in to my cravings anymore. It’s the worst thing I could possibly do.

Elaine and I are here to find answers, not distractions. I have to stay in control. Stepping under the warm water, I pick up the shampoo. In a few moments, he’ll be gone. It will be over, and next time I’ll be more careful.

3

Groundwork

Melissa

My red sundress is almost identical to Elaine’s green one. Both are swishy rayon with thin spaghetti straps and stop just above our knees. New Orleans is hot as hell, and the fewer clothes we can decently get away with wearing, the better.

A blast of cool air greets us as we step through the white arched doorway of the Original Pierre Maspero’s restaurant. It’s been our favorite lunch dive since college, when we used to take occasional girls’ trips to the Big Easy.

Nothing says party like sweating your ass off and drinking cheap beer from a plastic cup while walking through the French Quarter. Too bad that’s not the reason for our visit this time. Shaking my head, I try to figure out how it’s possible my life could have taken such a turn.

The restaurant is only two blocks west of our hotel, and we wait to be seated at one of the small, dark-wood tables inside the circa-1788 building. The grey stucco outside hides the beauty of the weathered brick interior. It’s so gorgeous and historic, I’m overwhelmed with sadness.

Is this why New Orleans is such a magnet for the paranormal? Am I destined to live alone through the centuries until the memories of a place like this are my sole source of comfort? God help me.

Elaine’s teasing voice cuts through my despair. “Are you waiting for someone?”

She’s further in the dim room than I am. I had drifted to the door as I considered my grim future, and looking back, I watch as she speaks to a handsome man. He’s fair with hazel eyes, an easy, sexy smile, and an impressive physique.

I try to walk closer and WHAM! I’m hit with a powerful wave of nausea. Reaching out, I grab the old French door for balance.

“I’m here with my partner,” I hear him say. “We’re working on a case.”

“Are you a cop?” Elaine’s flirting, and I can tell she’s intrigued with him. Squinting up, I see in his eyes he’s equally fascinated and bewildered by my pretty friend.

I want to care, but I have to step out onto the sidewalk. I’m afraid I might vomit my meager breakfast of buttered toast. With my enhanced senses, their voices are clear in my ears.

“Close.” I hear the smile in his voice. “Private investigator.”

“Interesting. Are you in town for long?”

“Through the weekend. You?” He’s got a cute, player quality to his voice, and I can practically feel the sexual tension between them.

“We head out on Sunday.” The rustle of bags, hands in pockets. I know they’re both fishing out business cards. “Elaine Merritt. Call me.”

“Patrick Knight, and I will.”

Elaine is so endearingly bold, and I know how men respond to her. It helps she can read their minds. She can tell the jerks right away and deflect their advances before they begin. In the meantime, I’ve got my back against the wall. I’m taking several deep breaths, trying to regain my composure.

“I’m sorry… I have to go.” She’s noticed my absence and is heading my way.

“Hey, wait.” Patrick is right with her, but his growing presence sends my insides into another spasm.

I have to lean forward just in case, and I catch the disapproving looks of passing pedestrians. I’m not drunk! I want to yell, but