by SF Benson
When he leaned in, my heartbeat kicked up a notch. I wanted him to kiss me, but he stopped short of claiming my lips. He stared into my eyes and said, “I thought you wanted to shower.”
I inhaled. He smelled of lust and musk. His heart hammered inside his chest. “What are you afraid of?”
“N-nothing.” He swallowed hard.
“Then stop hesitating. I know you want me,” I said confidently. “Well, I’m yours.”
Beads of sweat popped over his brow. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
He blinked a few times. A new scent was on the horizon—eau de fear. What on earth freaked him out?
In a voice so soft I barely heard him, he said, “When I’m on the edge, I’m dangerous.”
I touched his cheek. “I don’t mind it rough.”
“You would.” He shook his head vehemently. “That’s what Colby thought. He said it was okay, but it wasn’t.”
Mood killed. Last thing I wanted was to discuss his playmate. I dropped my arms and stepped back.
“Tabitha.”
He reached for me, but I kept backing up. “I’m good,” I lied. “Make yourself at home.”
Turning off my music, I dragged my feet down the hall. Maybe I got my signals crossed with Clint. I could have sworn he was into me. What changed? Maybe he’d never been with a woman? Maybe I was just a horny vampire who should invest in a lifetime supply of batteries? How many would an immortal need? Maybe I could find a rechargeable vibrator.
“Dearest, are you still mad at me?” Alexander’s intrusive voice was like a gong inside my head.
If he was the best I could do for sex, I’d do without it—or play for the other team.
“Beloved, why are you ignoring me?”
There were only two options—tune him out or respond. Frankly, I preferred the first, but I asked, “What do you want?”
Clint called out, “Did you say something?”
“No!”
The only way I was going to have a conversation with Alexander was in private. I ducked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. As the water ran, I waited for him to contact me again.
It didn’t take long. “I need to see you, Tabitha. Come to our room at the Bloody Bastard.”
Hoping the shower would drown out my voice, I said, “No, Alexander. I need a night off from you.”
“To do what? Sleep in your closet?”
At some point, I must have told him that. How else would he have known? “I’m going clubbing.”
“I’ll join you.”
“I said no.” Rubbing the back of my neck, I added, “I’m asking for one night of normalcy.”
“You belong to me. Have you forgotten that?”
How could I?
Frankly, I hadn’t forgotten anything about Alexander, including how he fucked over my life.
I lowered the toilet seat and sat down. “Please, it’s one request. You said I belong to you, but does that mean we have to be joined at the hip?”
“Of course not, my dear. Do what you need. I’ll find you.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.” How could I enjoy myself if I knew he was lurking in the shadows? Maybe I should ask someone if vampire repellant was a thing.
“Not an option. And ditch the dhampir. He’s just a child wishing he could be more.”
Speaking of dhampirs…
The one who promised to help me was pounding on my bathroom door. “Tabitha!”
Shit!
I jumped to my feet and yanked the door open. “Are you trying to alert my neighbors?”
“No, but you were talking so loud to St. John I had to shout.”
I didn’t think I was that loud.
“Could you stop eavesdropping? What does a gal have to do for a little privacy?”
Clint held up his phone. “Too late for that. We have to meet with Kragen.”
“When?”
“Now.” Golden Boy held out his hand. “Come on.”
“Uh-uh. I still need to shower.”
“Kragen doesn’t like to be kept waiting. Besides, you look great.”
* * *
I’d lived my entire life in New Orleans and had barely been to the Garden District. I guess it took my death to gain an up close and personal with the neighborhood.
Once again, the scary tall brother opened the door. He stepped to the side, and Clint tugged me toward the front parlor. And just like before, the jagged-looking vampire sat on his throne-like chair.
“Took ya long enough.”
I crossed my arms. “Blame me. I had to shower.”
The male sneered. “Ya will find life easier when ya drop human conventions.”
Clint pointed to the sofa. I rolled my eyes as I sat down.
“What did you want to see us about?” he asked his father.
“I’ve heard from Morgan. What is this ‘bout a trap for St. John? We’re not allowed ta pursue the male if he’s not doing anything wrong.”
My lips parted, but Clint cut me off. “Kragen, we’re simply keeping an eye on him. If he happens to—”
“Ya plan on baiting the vampire. Unlawful according ta Council rules. Unacceptable by BGS standards. Unapproved by me.”
It would have been nice if Morgan had kept her damn mouth shut. After her little stunt, I understood why St. John called the agents a bunch of do-gooders. We could have handled the situation quietly. By the time Kragen found out, the deal would have been done.
I glanced up.
He fixed me with an intense glare. “That is not how we do things. Every action must be approved. The BlackGuard protects both humans and supernaturals. The vampire community would be outraged if we started executing members simply because we had a personal issue with them.”
I jumped to my feet. “What’s the real issue, Kragen? Is it because the creature attacked a sister? Is that why you won’t act?”
“This is hardly a race matter.”
“Isn’t it? If your son was brutally attacked, turned against his will, would you demand the fiend be caught and punished?”
His drawl wavered. “Neither here nor there. My son wouldn’t put himself in a position to be attacked.”
“Oh, no you didn’t!” I lunged for the leader. A hand wrapped around my elbow and pulled me back down on the sofa.
“You can’t harm him no matter how much it’s justified,” said Clint.
I faced him. “He said I brought this on myself! Do you believe that?”
He hesitated.
“Hell no!” I yanked out of his grip and stood. “You do what you think is best. I’ll handle my own damn affairs!”
15
More Problems
Morgan
* * *
Despite the need to track down Alexander St. John, the rogues continued to plague the Quarter. Ace and I couldn’t enjoy our evenings. Every night was spent tracking down leads and cleaning up the messes created by all the errant supernaturals.
We were patrolling the streets around Jackson Square, the scene where my troubles began, when Kragen contacted me. I was seriously contemplating ignoring his call, but not because it was irrelevant. Far from it. My problem stemmed from the general demeanor of the vamp. He was rarely polite, always demanding, and only thought of his own needs.
“Yes, Kragen?” I stopped and faced Decatur Street, watching the unsuspecting humans drive by.
“We’ve a problem with the vampiress.”
“Now what?” I exhaled, and Ace gave me a curious look.
“I informed her the BGS wouldn’t pursue St. John. Personal problems are beyond the purview of the BlackGuard.”
It was the same nonsense Edwina told me about. Frankly, it was a coward’s approach to handling situations. The Elders could deem a renegade not worthy of hunting down simply by using the policy.
I smacked my forehead, and Ace’s eyebrows knitted together.
What? he mouthed.
“What do you want us to do about Tabitha?” I asked.
&
nbsp; “Find her. If she acts without my permission, she must be punished. Ya don’t have ta behead her. Just bring her ta me. A little time staked and bricked in a wall might change her mind.”
“Sure thing,” I lied and disconnected the call. Pocketing the phone, I said, “Who told Kragen about our plans?”
Ace rubbed his bald head. “My guess would be Clint. You know how he likes to keep things above board.”
Translation? Clint did things to garner Kragen’s approval. The male would never understand that his father didn’t give two fucks about him. Sadly, Kragen was a traditionalist, which meant being self-absorbed. It kind of went with the territory. Vampires hadn’t survived for centuries by caring about others. When you were doomed to outlive everyone you knew, you didn’t form relationships. You didn’t concern yourself with emotions. It was counterproductive and only intensified loneliness.
If Kragen had been smart—like Etienne and Rodrigo—he would have found himself a partner. There were lady vampires who could have tolerated spending eternity with him.
Ace’s eyebrow quirked up. “And when those so-called ladies got to know him, they would run for the hills.”
“True.” Kragen wasn’t someone who was easily liked.
“What does he want us to do about Tabitha?”
“Kragen wants us to watch her. If she goes after St. John, then we’re supposed to bring her in.”
“I don’t think so.” My husband pursed his lips. “As much as I don’t like using anyone for bait, I’d rather not see her staked behind a wall.”
“That makes two of us.”
Personally, I had no experience with the practice. My father, however, had endured it a time or two with his sire. Dracula had no problem staking Father when he didn’t behave as expected. I was told it was extremely painful. The agony was intense, but the dark and the silence was even worse.
“Let’s go,” I said and led Ace back through the park. It was late enough for only a handful of tourists to be gathered around the church. “We have to find her before someone else does.”
“Where do you think she’ll go?”
“The Quarter. First off, she’s probably ready to feed. Second, the girl loves trouble.” I thought about all the bodies we cleared from in front of the nightspots. “We should probably check the nightclubs.”
* * *
After an hour of searching, we were no closer to finding Tabitha. Even after Ace called in his pack, we couldn’t find her. It was as if she didn’t want to be found, which meant one thing.
“I know where to go,” I announced and headed north on Tchoupitoulas Street.
Ace fell into step with me and asked, “Where?”
“The Hibernia Tower. She has an apartment there. The vamp probably thinks she can hide out from St. John and anyone else tracking her.”
It took us roughly fifteen minutes to walk the distance. The apartment complex was inside the Hibernia National Bank building, built back in 1921. The landmark was once considered the tallest structure in Louisiana. In my mind, the Hibernia Tower contained overpriced units appealing to those who wanted to brag they lived at a well-known address.
Since we doubted that Tabitha would let us in, Ace punched in a random apartment number and announced he had a food delivery.
“Smart, baby,” I mumbled when the buzzer sounded and the door opened.
Standing at the elevator, he said, “How do you plan on finding her?”
“Easy.” I whipped out my phone and looked up Clint’s number. Within seconds, he answered, “Hey, I need Tabitha’s apartment number.”
“Why?”
“Nothing to worry about. Kragen just asked us to keep an eye on her.”
He sighed and said, “1008. Would you let me know if she’s okay?”
“What did you do?”
“It’s more like what I didn’t do.”
“Shit.” I hung up without saying anything else to him. “She’s on the first floor.”
Ace pressed the button, and we waited for the doors to open. “So she’s on the warpath because of Clint?”
“Well, if she were still human, I’d expect to find her with a carton of Ben & Jerry’s. I just hope we don’t find a couple of corpses instead.”
When we reached Tabitha’s floor, I didn’t sense anything untoward. Finding her apartment was relatively easy. Once we arrived, Ace reached the doorknob.
“Don’t. Let’s respect her privacy.”
He knocked.
She mumbled, “Who is it?”
“Tabitha, it’s Morgan and Ace. Can we come in?”
“Go away.”
“If we leave, Kragen will send Clint.” It was a low card to play, but something told me he was the last person she wanted to see.
The lock clicked, and the door yawned open.
Inside it was fairly dark. The streetlights shone into the living room, outlining Tabitha’s silhouette at the window.
Ace shut the door behind us.
“So Kragen sent you to scare the shit out of me?”
“Something like that.” I inched across the floor. “He wants to make sure you don’t go after Alexander.”
She faced me. “Sorry, but I can’t promise that. St. John stole my life.”
Even in the dim light, I could tell she needed to feed. Over my shoulder, I said, “Ace, do me a favor and contact Rodrigo. Tell him we need bottled crimson. He can pick up a few bottles from the Bloody Bastard.”
“On it.” His heavy footsteps collided with the wood floor, and then the door opened and closed.
“Do you mind if I turn on a light?”
“Help yourself.”
I switched on an end table lamp and looked over at the vampiress. She wore a pair of shades.
“It’s easier on my eyes with the glasses.” She plopped down on an oversized chair. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“I know.” I lowered myself to the sofa.
“Maybe it’s punishment.”
“For?”
“Greed. The asshole gave me a grand the last night I danced, so I thought I had to be nice to him. Like an idiot, I let him walk me home. We didn’t get past the alley before he attacked.” She shuddered. “Why me? Out of all the goddamned women in New Orleans, why did he choose me?”
Leaning forward, I said, “I have no idea, but there is someone who might. Someone who could help you deal with your existence.”
“If he has a bullet to put me out of my misery, call him up.”
“It’s not a male.” I removed my phone and found Edwina’s number. She picked up on the first ring. “It’s me, Edwina. I’m with Tabitha.”
“St. John’s latest victim?”
“Yup. Do you think you could come by? She really could use your wisdom.”
Laughter hit my ear.
“What’s so funny?”
“I never thought I’d hear those words from ya.”
“Are you going to make me beg?” I glanced up at Tabitha. She’d taken off her sunglasses and was squinting at me.
“Damn straight. Get busy, half-breed.”
My gaze flicked to the ceiling. “Would you please come to the Hibernia Tower? Tabitha could really use your help, and I would greatly appreciate it.”
“Oh, ya do an excellent job at groveling. Remind me to give ya more chances to do it.”
My blood simmered, but it was my punishment for all the hell I’d given Edwina over the years. “Thank you. We’re in apartment 1008.”
The door swung open, and Ace and Rodrigo tore into the room. The Elder wore skinny black jeans and a ruffled white shirt. His high-heeled boots clicked across the floor.
“Hey, Morgan. Ace said you were in need.” He turned toward my husband and gestured for him to set the box on the coffee table.
“It’s not for me.” I pointed to Tabitha. “Rodrigo, I’d like you to meet Tabitha. Tabitha this is Rodrigo. He’s one of the Elders.”
A blank look came across her face. “You’re kidding me
, right? Do you call him an elder because he looks like an eighties’ throwback?”
Rodrigo shook his head, and his wavy hair moved around his shoulders like a dark curtain. “I would say it’s a pleasure, but that smart mouth of yours makes it difficult.”
“Enough, you two.” I pushed to my feet and grabbed a bottle of Crimson Ridge. Twisting off the cap, I handed the container to Tabitha. “Drink up.”
She practically chugged it all down in one gulp.
There was another knock at the door, and then Edwina sauntered in.
Tabitha sputtered and choked on her meal. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she shouted, “What the hell?”
“Calm down,” said Edwina as she sat beside me. “Morgan called me. Remember?” To Rodrigo, she said, “Where’s ya partner?”
“In a meeting with Julien. We were at the Bloody Bastard when Ace called. We figured it was easier if I slipped out. Julien thinks I’m following up on a tip about St. John.” Rodrigo’s gaze bounced from me to Tabitha and back again. “Are we good here? I should get going.”
“Yeah, yeah. Thanks for coming, Rodrigo. If our latest vamp can stop guzzling her meals, the box should last her a week,” I stated.
The color returned to her face, and she screwed the cap on the bottle.
Ace walked the vampire out, leaving us females alone. Edwina, however, didn’t need an invitation to speak. “I picked up on ya frustration coming through the door. Where did St. John see ya?”
“Hanging upside down on a pole,” Tabitha said.
“What?” Edwina reached for an unopened bottle of crimson. “I don’t get it.”
“Tabitha was an exotic dancer,” I clarified.
“Ain’t no need dressing it up,” she said. “I was a stripper. St. John came in the last night I performed. He had a front row seat and tipped big. The jack ass stalked me after I left the club.”
“Let me guess. Ya called ya self being nice to him. Since he paid big, ya figured ya kind of owned him one. He paid ya back by attacking ya. Right?”
“Yeah. Why me? I’m just a girl without a family. I worked my ass off six nights a week on a fucking pole.”
Edwina took a sip from the bottle. “It has nothing to do with any of that. St. John has a type.” The hybrid gave me the side eye. “He sired me.”