Pulling my phone out to text my partner, I turn on Bienville Street heading for Bourbon when out of nowhere, BAM!

  I’m hit so hard, I almost drop my phone.

  Falling back against the wall, I try to catch my breath, looking around for what it was. Nothing… I see nothing around me but tourists.

  For a moment, I’m confused. Am I hallucinating?

  It happens again—BAM!

  An invisible weight slams into my chest. My throat tightens, and my vision clouds as if a fog rolls in around me.

  I can’t see anything. Fighting panic, I grip the stucco wall at my back to hold me steady. Hissing fills my ears, and a surge of jealousy slams into my stomach like a fist. I stagger, still trying to hold myself up.

  It’s him. I don’t know if he’s here on the street or if I’ve only tapped into his psyche, but he’s here.

  I feel you, too.

  His words crystallize in my brain.

  My breathing picks up, and I look around fast. Still foggy. I flush hot then cold, and sweat breaks out over my forehead. My chest tightens. I’m alone and unarmed. I’m completely vulnerable, and neither of my partners knows where I am. How could I be so foolish?

  Holding the stucco at my back, I step slowly toward the corner, making my way to my hotel. I’m only a half block from the door. I’ve got to make it inside.

  As I approach Bourbon, the mist starts to clear. I see a wall of moving tourists where Bienville crosses the busy street. Straining my eyes, I scan the crowd for anything suspicious.

  It hits me again, just as hard. BAM!

  Rage slams into me like a sucker-punch. It’s so strong, it almost bends me in two. I hold my midsection and breathe deeply. As I lift my chin ice floods my veins.

  I see him. He’s there.

  He’s a silhouette, a slender man standing apart from the crowd. He’s across the street facing me in the shadows, and his features are obscured as if a smear has been put on a camera lens. It makes him appear to have no face, only two black orbs, his eyes glaring at me.

  Despite all my strength, I shudder. I’m not ready for this.

  You dare touch what’s MINE? His voice is a snake in my ears.

  My one gift, my immunity to their glamour has vanished. Drinking her blood mingled with his must have taken it away. Only he isn’t using glamour. He’s blinding me. He’s preventing me from seeing his features. I push away from the wall, trying to move with the stream of tourists, to keep them between him and me.

  Still, I know how fast he can move. If he chooses to strike, all anyone would notice is the flutter of a curtain. The sweat on my forehead is cold, and I push on toward the Royal Sonesta.

  He isn’t attacking. He’s tracking, figuring out where I’m staying. I thought I’d find him, but the tables have turned. I’m the hunted.

  From deep within, my insides rage at that thought. My vow to save Melissa fights back with a powerful anger. Instinctively, I push against the creature with my mind. He might be powerful, but he’s not indestructible. He’s just another monster.

  I took back what you stole. My thoughts turn forceful. She’s mine now.

  The haze slips from my eyes. I see the line of a smile, hard and sinister on his lips. Oh, yes. You will be fun to kill.

  Blinking, I step forward to the street for a better look. As I do, he recedes further into the darkness. His face melts into the shadows, followed by his entire body.

  He’s gone.

  With a deep sigh, I wipe the sweat off my brow. I stand staring at the empty space, calming my breath, waiting for my adrenaline to cool. A woman bumps into me, snapping me from my daze. She apologizes, and I nod, pushing into the lobby.

  I text Stuart, Meet me in my room now. Urgent.

  We had planned to meet in the oyster bar attached to the hotel, but I go straight to my room. I’m there five minutes when he’s knocking.

  A 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, their faces bold and full of character, peer out at me. Some seem calm while others have wild black eyes. I wonder what their specialties might have been.

  “Papa Ute could possess different bodies,” Mariska says as if reading my mind. She steps up beside me and lifts a framed black and white photo of a very dark man. His nostrils are flared, and his expression is so fierce, he reminds me of an angry bull.

  Today her hair is wrapped in a high bun with a navy scarf around her head. She’s wearing loop earrings, a brown cami, and a lace skirt. With her cat-eyes, she’s every bit the gypsy granddaughter of one of the most powerful voodoo queens in New Orleans.

  “Was he a relative of yours?” We walk slowly down the hall, looking at these mementoes of the past.

  “He was married to Auntie Celeste, Yaya’s sister, for a while. Then he went on.”

  I’m not sure if she means he died or he moved to another town. It could very well be either.

  “Demeter taught you to read palms and tea leaves,” I say, looking at the wall of rosaries. “Are you hiding any other special powers?”

  “Gifts, you mean?” Her full lips part over straight white teeth as she smiles. “I have prophetic dreams.”

  My eyebrows rise. “Anything about me?”

  “Sorry,” she does a little frown. “My dreams so far have only been about me.”

  We’re at the back screen door. She pushes it, holding it open as I pass through.

  “Selfish girl,” I tease.

  “It’s really more frustrating than anything.” She’s right behind me, letting it go with a slam. “I can never figure out what they mean until they’ve already come true.”

  The backyard is enchanting. A covered patio is lined with hanging pots overflowing with flowers. A fountain is engulfed at the side of the house in a cluster of white oleander. A large ceiling fan keeps the air moving, while a few steps down, wisteria grows over an arbor. Along the fence, herbs grow wild in beds.

  “This is incredible!” My voice is hushed with surprise.

  “Yeah,” she smiles, tilting her head to the side. “Everything out here can be used in some way.”

  I stop at a thick green vine hanging upside-down from a beam and lift a plump, red tomato. “Even in the kitchen?”

  She laughs, “That one’s ready!” She reaches out a smooth, tanned arm full of bracelets and picks it.

  “Tell me what everything is!” I say, following her out into the yard.

  “Most of it’s pretty basic stuff.” She stops at a hairy looking green plant and twirls a stem in her fingers. “Mugwort is great for prophecy and dreaming.”

  “Is that one your favorite?”

  “No, my favorite is the lavender.” We walk down a few paces to the tall, woody stems covered in hazy greyish-purple pods. “I love how it smells. It brings calmness and peace.” She pinches off a sprig and sniffs it. “It can even be used for love potions.”

  “What are these, daisies?” I’m standing in front of a bunch of happy white flowers with little yellow hearts.

  “Here.” She breaks one off and tucks it behind my ear. “Chamomile is very versatile. Wear it in your hair to attract a lover or keep it in your pocket for good luck.”

  “I know this one,” I say, bending down to touch a small green plant. “Pennyroyal makes you rich.”

  She shakes her head, pointing down the way. “Rosemary will protect you, and sage will summon your spirit guide.”

  A breeze sweeps through the vast garden, and I watch the fronds on a weeping willow sway like hair. Live oak trees spread their heavy branches over the back of the yard, just before the tree line becomes dense.

  “You have a lot of herbs for protection here,” I note.

  “Yaya has worked with a lot of troubled people.”

  “That’s one way to put it.” I snap off a stem of round yellow flowers. “It makes me feel safe somehow, being here.”

  She doesn’t answer, and we walk a little farther, our feet swishing in the long grass. “Have you ever mixed any of these into potions?”

  “Not really,” she says. “I do little things like the vial I gave you, but I’m still in college. Yaya says the only magic I need to worry about is happening between my ears.”

  “What’s your degree?”

  “Fine Arts.” A bluebird flits down, stopping at the small wooden box high on a metal post. It’s such a small, vibrant thing. We watch it until it flies away. A black and white cat sits very still tracking its movements.

  “Their house was lower, on the fence.” She points to an ancient rail fence lining the property. “We had to move it so the cats couldn’t eat them.”

  “Oh no!” I laugh. “Cats are such hunters.”

  “Some people think they’re spirit guides.”

  We come to a small concrete bench tucked in a sweet olive bush. I take a deep breath of the heavy perfume as we sit. “It’s beautiful here.”

  We’re looking toward the house. Patrick and Elaine are walking among the flowers, holding hands and talking. He brushes her hair off her shoulder and threads a bright pink apple blossom behind her ear.

  Mariska watches me. “How are you feeling around him now?”

  I shrug. “I guess being outdoors helps. I don’t feel anything in particular.”

  “I’ll make you a lemon verbena tea.”

  Looking down, I lift the little vial I’d dropped around my neck before leaving the hotel. It joins the tiny gold heart at the base of my throat. I’m not sure I believe all these talismans, but after what I’ve been through, I’m willing to give anything a chance.

  “Didn’t you say verbena root would fight vampire blood?”

  “No.” She shakes her head, pressing her palms on the bench beside her. “The shifter blood does the fighting. Verbena just gives it an advantage. It’s a powerful plant.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Hmm…” As she thinks, her shoulders rise. She folds her hands, and I notice a swipe of blue on one of her fingers. She’s a painter. “It used to be called herba sacra, because legend said it stopped Christ’s bleeding on the cross.”

  “So it’s a coagulant?”

  “It dries up the blood.” Her head tilts, and she grins. “It’s also an aphrodisiac. And it cures kidney stones.”

  I grin. “Is it also used for protection?”

  “Most likely.” She walks over to a grey tabby cat and squats. The animal bangs its head against her leg, rubbing its whole body down her side. “Wild rose and mountain ash are also useful against vampires.”

  “You know so much about these things.”

  “I just grew up hearing about them all the time. I’ve never actually met anyone—” Her lip goes between her teeth as if she said too much.

  “Anyone what?”

  “I just meant… well, anyone like you.”

  “Why are you embarrassed?”

  Twisting her hands, she takes her seat beside me on the bench. “You’re a hybrid, which means you drank vampire blood. Why would you do that?”

  Her question is just above a whisper, and I look down, measuring my response.

  “I have my own marketing firm. He was one of my clients.” Putting my feet on the bench, I hug my arms around my knees remembering how normal it all seemed back then. “He was older, distinguished. He knew about fine wine and music.”

  “You dated him?”

  I rest my chin on the top of my knees. “It wasn’t very professional, getting involved with a client. I guess I thought I was falling in love with him.”

  “Were you?”

  Images of these last days with Derek fill my mind, and I answer fast. “No.”

  She turns to face me. “So why did you do it?”

  Lowering my feet I shrug. “He has a presence. It’s hard to explain, but it seems to heighten everything.”

  “His glamour.” She nods as if the riddle is solved.

  “Maybe,” I say, thinking. “Before the bite, he was the most enthralling thing I’d ever experienced. After, he was repellant to me. I detested him.”

  “I see. He forced you.”

  I look into her golden-hazel eyes. “How did you know?”

  Her expression brightens. “I think you told me? Maybe it was Elaine. Regardless, that makes it so much more cruel.”

  “It was very cruel. I ran as far from him as I could. Elaine helped me move back to Wilmington.” With a little shiver as if from a sudden chill, I look up at the overcast sky. “Still he finds me. His voice is with me everywhere.”

  Scooting closer, Mariska wraps a slim arm around my shoulders. “You don’t have to run anymore. You’re here; we’re here. You’re safe.”

  The word feels more powerful than all these herbal remedies, still I don’t know if I can believe it yet. I only smile and thank her. The afternoon is growing late, and Demeter is waving us in to dinner. I haven’t heard from Derek, and my chest aches with worry.

  Automatically, my mind resumes its silent chant. My entire body longs for him. Please come back to me, my love. Please come back…

  * * *

  Derek

  The empty warehouse flickers with shadows. Columns of dust-filled light stream through the space. The large windows above face east, and it won’t be long before it’s completely dark.

  Stuart and I 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.