One Immortal - Tia Louise Page 0,8
I’m powerless.
“What are you doing for dinner tomorrow night?” He’s too close. I push away from the wall and stagger down the block to the corner.
On Chartres Street, I can catch my breath. I’m able to stand and breathe deeply when my friend rounds the building fast, worry clear in her eyes.
“Shit, Melissa! You scared the hell out of me. I didn’t know where you went.”
“I’m sorry.” Pressing my eyes closed, I touch the perspiration off my brow. “I don’t know what happened back there. I thought I might puke.”
She glances back over her shoulder before pushing us both further up Chartres. “Do you still feel like eating? We can go to K-Paul’s instead?”
Nodding, we head northeast in the direction of the Louisiana Chef’s signature restaurant. My strength returns quickly, still I’m confused by what just happened.
“Who was that guy?”
A little smile curls her lips. “Not sure, but we’re having dinner with him and his partner tomorrow night.” She gives me a wink. “Try to relax. Before that happens, we’ll meet with Demeter and get answers.”
Dread floods my insides, but I’m not sure whether it’s because we’re having dinner with Elaine’s new lust-interest, or if it’s because I’m afraid of what the old woman will tell us. Or won’t tell us.
* * *
Derek
Patrick’s text was waiting when I stepped out of the shower this morning. He’d taken the red-eye and was in New Orleans.
Further intel. You shouldn’t be here alone.
Cryptic. It means he’s worried our texts are being monitored.
As soon as I’d read it, I shot back a reply. Preparing. Meet at Two Sister’s, dinner to debrief and regroup.
Then I’d closed the blackout shades in my suite, shut off all my devices, and forced myself to sleep eight hours longer, until late afternoon. The Knight brothers and I have worked together long enough to know our strengths and vulnerabilities. Patrick’s emergency trip to the city is significant.
I’ve been accused before—mostly by my targets—of being a hypocrite for hunting vampires with shifter partners. Two responses: First, I’m not. Second, I don’t search out vampires for the thrill of staking them. I seek justice.
The Knights are law-abiding, and in addition to their loyalty and adherence to family bonds, they have heightened senses, strength, and enhanced healing powers.
Patrick’s overactive sex drive tests my patience, and it doesn’t help that his shifter charm seems to dissolve women’s inhibitions. He’s been embroiled in two sticky situations in the short time we’ve worked together. Still, he’s smart, and he’s a great tracker. I can overlook a few lapses in judgment, but I’ll be glad when he finally mates.
When my alarm rouses me, it’s after six. It’s not yet twilight, still New Orleans feels darker than other cities. The black wrought iron and clinging vines covering every structure add to the shadowy nature of the place. It’s sweaty and damp, and everyone is looking for a cool place to escape the heat.
It’s also September. We’re moving into fall, harvest season, Halloween. It’s a dangerous time to be in my line of work, and I’m on full alert. I’m actually thankful my younger partner is here.
Before I leave my suite, I slip a 9mm handgun in my boot. It’s loaded with silver bullets, and it’s the only weapon I’ll carry. Forget sneaking up on immortals. Their heightened senses alert them to your presence, and even if they didn’t have that advantage, they’re paranoid about attacks.
Patrick is a huge asset, but if our target truly is an old one, neither of us will be a match for him alone. I only hope together we’ll be a close equivalent. My flesh is vulnerable, but I’ve learned a few tricks for staying out of danger. Shifters cause such painful wounds, vampires tend to avoid tangling with them.
Anyway, we only want information. This old one isn’t the one. Patrick’s investigations have indicated they’re associates, nothing more. If we don’t walk into any surprises, we should be okay.
The sun is behind the clouds, still the air is thick with heat. I’m wearing dark, loose jeans, a light, short-sleeved polo, and heavy black boots. As I walk the few blocks from my hotel to The Court of Two Sisters, I wonder what my partner did today while I rested and prepared. Female laughter and loud music flows out of the Bourbon Street bars, and I can imagine the temptation is great for him here. We’re on a job, however, and he’s usually focused when we’re working.
Returning as a tourist to the city where I