Wilder, J. C. - Shadow Dweller 5

by Sins-Flesh(lit)

  She raised a hand to her forehead, a frown curving her mouth. "I was walking..." Her eyes widened and she dropped her hand. "It was him, the immortal-"

  "I saw him leave. Are you okay to sit a few moments alone?"

  She nodded, her movement cautious, as if she were in pain.

  "I'll be back."

  He rose and ran out into Bourbon Street. He looked in the direction where Miles had headed. If anything, the crowds had increased in the past few minutes. He jogged down the street, jostling revelers in his wake as he engaged his vampire senses to scan for the revenant. The crush of people made it hard and, after several blocks, he slowed and admitted defeat. There were quite a few preternaturals in the crowd and it would be impossible to find Miles by senses alone.

  Defeated, Alexandre retraced his steps. What were Miles and Cass doing in New Orleans? If he were Cass, it would be the last place in the world he'd try to hide. They had to know that sooner or later he'd stumble across one of them. He'd lived here for many years now; he knew every nook and cranny of the city. Very little escaped his notice.

  He walked back to the alley and it took a second to register that Sunni no longer sat where he'd left her.

  "Sun?"

  "I'm here," she stepped out of the shadows. "Did you find him?"

  His eyes narrowed as he assessed her physical condition. A smudge of dirt across one cheekbone and another on her shirt was the only external evidence of her unexpected encounter.

  "No, he vanished in the crowds." Anger ignited in his gut. She was lucky; she could have been killed. Miles wouldn't have thought twice about separating her head from her lovely neck.

  Her movements were cautious as she wrapped her arms around her waist. "I'm sorry."

  "You should be." Fury vibrated his entire body and he struggled to control it. "Miles-"

  She brightened. "His name is Miles?"

  He ignored her. "He wouldn't have approached you without reason. He wouldn't have singled you out in a crowd. That isn't how he operates. What did you do to him?"

  She lifted her chin. "I was following him."

  "You were-" He bit off the flow of irate words. Shouting at her would accomplish nothing. He took several calming breaths before he spoke. "What did you think you were you doing?" He was pleased to hear he sounded calm.

  "Trying to help you."

  "Well, next time, don't. Miles is dangerous and unpredictable and he'd kill you without a second thought. With Mikhail as his master, he has powers you could only dream of."

  She raised her head and her smile was faint. "So I noticed."

  "What did you think you could accomplish?"

  She cocked her head, her expression turning speculative. "I saw you standing outside my shop."

  Alexandre tensed, dismayed. He'd only stood there a few seconds. She'd given no indication that she'd been aware of his presence.

  "I thought maybe you wanted something," she said.

  "I saw your window and I was curious."

  She stepped forward, her expression light. "You were?"

  Inwardly he cursed. The last thing he needed was to encourage her.

  "I couldn't imagine a pair of women owning a tattoo parlor. It seems so...common." He balked at the sound of his words. It made him seem like a snob.

  Her expression froze as the light died in her eyes. "Yes, well," her tone was cool, "it's like creating living art. Our work actually lives and breathes. It has life. So unlike you and I."

  He fought the urge to smile. "That's one way of looking at it."

  "That is exactly how we look at it." She frowned, holding out her hand as if to implore his understanding. "Alexandre, I was only trying to help-"

  He cut her off. "I don't need your help, Sunni. You need to realize that these are dangerous times and the world isn't the safe place it used to be. You're fragile and at the mercy of anyone who wishes to victimize you." He held his hand up as she bristled. "You need to lie low until some of this is resolved. That means no following anyone and no more 'helping' me. Do you understand?"

  "I can help you, though-" She stepped closer.

  "Sunni," he fought to contain his impatience but he'd reached the end of his rope. "Look, I didn't want to address this, but you've given me no choice. I know you think you're in love with me, but you're not. It's time to put this infatuation away. I'm not the man you think I am."

  With each word her back stiffened until he feared she might shatter. Her expression grew remote, her gaze cool. "He gave me a message for you."

  "What is it?"

  "He said a plague has been cast among your people and with it comes a cry for order. A new leader shall rise and all will be as it should be."

  A sinking feeling hit him in the stomach. It was starting all over again and, this time, more innocents would die.

  "Do you know what he meant?" she asked.

  "Nothing you need worry about."

  Her lips tightened and she moved around him, her bearing stiff and starched. She was angry with him. Good. As long as she stayed away from him and the storm that was brewing in New Orleans, she would be safe.

  "I want you to stay out of this."

  She turned, her eyes impersonal as they raked him and he had the impression she found him lacking. For a split second he regretted his hasty words about her feelings toward him. Already he missed the warmth of her smile.

  "For future reference, my personal life and feelings are none of your business. I'll endeavor to steer clear of you from now on." She paused to catch her breath. "You're right, Alexandre, you're not the man I thought you were."

  With that she turned and slipped into the crowds, leaving him with the bitter aftertaste of something resembling regret.

  I lied to him.

  Tears stung as Sunni settled into her bed in the fortified attic above the store. Her body ached from head to toe, but she knew the pain would be gone when she rose in the evening. The same couldn't be said for the pain in her heart. She had a feeling that would linger for years, not just hours. She gave a watery sigh as she curled onto her side, the silk and velvet of her bed comforting and familiar against her skin.

  If nothing else, he was right about one thing. She was in love with him. She'd been in love with him for years and she'd never loved anyone else. Never wanted to. She'd known shortly after meeting him that he was the man for her. He'd saved her from death and had held her in his arms until she'd awakened from her dark slumber. When she'd opened her eyes and seen his dark face over hers, she'd never seen such concern and desire, at least not when a man looked at her.

  The moment he'd realized she awakened, it was as if a mask had fallen and Alexandre had become remote. He'd chastised her about the dangers of straying too far from one's lair close to dawn. He'd then escorted her home and left her with a formal good-bye and the remembered strength of his embrace.

  She closed her eyes, the memory sustaining her still. Over the years she'd run into him any number of times. Some were engineered while others were strictly by accident. Each time he'd remained distant as if they'd never spent that long ago night in each other's arms. But that didn't deter her for she remembered it well enough for both of them.

  Then tonight had been almost like a replay from sixty years ago. He'd held her in his arms once more, only this time he'd kissed her. On the forehead, at least. But that made no difference, a kiss was a kiss. She lightly rubbed where his mouth had touched her skin as a shiver of delight rippled through her.

  Then he'd embarrassed and chastised her before tearing her heart out. She dropped her hand as tears threatened once more.

  Damn him.

  Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he needed her help with Cass. While she hadn't proven it to him yet, she was a valuable partner when subterfuge was needed. She could be resourceful, useful.

  Now she had to convince him of that. A delicious thrill ran through her as she tugged she sheets higher, tucking them under her chin.

  He was wrong about something
else. He was the man she thought he was no matter how much he denied it. He was kind, generous and heroic, if a bit formal, but this added to his magnetism. In some ways, it made her want him all the more. She saw through the façade he showed the world to the man within. Here was the man she'd fallen in love with, not the Council Elder that everyone else knew.

  Exhaustion claimed her as the rising sun tugged at her dark self. Sleep descended as quietly as a breath.

  * * *

  Chapter 4

  This was getting old.

  Midnight passed as Alexandre walked along Bourbon Street, once more in pursuit of Raphael. Low gray clouds hung in the sky and a light, misty rain touched his face. Unlike last night, the streets harbored fewer people along the avenue. The persistent rain appeared to have dampened their Mardi Gras enthusiasm. Many of the shops were closed, but the nightclubs were bulging at the seams as revelers sought to evade the weather by taking their parties inside. Judging from the loud music and the roar of human voices, the night would be a financial success for those lucky entrepreneurs.

  He couldn't resist a glance at Sunni's store as he passed. He was half-relieved to see it lit by a single golden light and that the CLOSED sign hung prominently in the window. Even the little vampire and her partner took the night off.

  He continued his walk, mindless of the rain dampening his clothing. He had business to attend to and he only wished he could exorcise Sunni from his mind for once and for all. She distracted him from his duty.

  The energy of another vampire prickled his skin as he neared the rendezvous point. He ducked into the alley, his gaze fixing on the secluded doorway where Raphael waited. The vampire paced the confines of the space, sheltered from the rain by a rickety-looking balcony. His movements were quick and jerky as if he had too much energy to remain still. Curious. Raphael had never struck him as someone who was overly physical. In the past, he'd been laid back to the point that Alexandre wanted to shake him and make sure he was awake. He couldn't remember ever seeing him quite so animated before.

  "You have something for me?"

  Raphael jerked and spun around, his fangs bared, his expression panicked. When he recognized Alexandre, he relaxed and hid his fangs as a sheepish expression crossed his face.

  He is a bit jumpy this evening. Interesting.

  "I have a message for you." Raphael sounded breathless.

  "Go on." Alexandre watched as the vampire danced from foot to foot. His hands shook with fine tremors and a light sheen of sweat tinged with blood had broken across his face. Sweating wasn't completely unheard of in a vampire, especially in the warmer, humid climates such as a rain forest or the bayous. Yet, in all his years, he'd never seen a vampire sweat like Raphael, especially not in February in Louisiana.

  "She wishes to meet with you." He leaned against the building, still for a few seconds before he pushed away from the wall to dance from side to side. "Cassiopeia asked that you meet her in Jackson Square two nights from now at one A.M."

  Something wasn't right. Raphael's energy was off, way off. Vampire energy resembled a low voltage current, cool and blue with very little fluctuation. Raphael's energy seemed to come in waves, as did his jittery motions. As his movements grew more erratic, the sensation became stronger, unpredictable. During the few moments when he'd stilled, it had dropped to a barely perceptible level.

  "Did she indicate why she wished to meet with me?"

  "No, she said nothing else." The vampire continued his odd jitterbug shuffle under the dubious sanctuary of the balcony.

  "Are you feeling well?"

  Raphael gave a wan smile. "I think I got some bad blood or something. I'm feeling a bit shaky."

  Alexandre nodded. That was far more common. With new diseases, drugs and addictions in humans, vampires were more susceptible to "illnesses" as it were. If a vampire fed from a drunk with a high alcohol content, the vampire would feel the same effects as the human. Of course, they didn't last nearly as long thanks to their amazing restorative powers. But that explained Raphael's inability to remain still. He'd obviously gotten hold of a human who'd done some sort of amphetamine or cocaine and now he was feeling the affects of the drug along with the rush that accompanied a normal feeding.

  "Thank you for the message. Now, go feed, this time on a clean human and try to get some rest. By tomorrow you'll feel like yourself." Alexandre handed him a small roll of bills as payment for his services.

  A look of relief crossed Raphael's face as he accepted the money. "Thanks. I'll keep my ears open for more news." His expression turned serious and his movements stilled. "Word is that something bad is about to go down. That's one of the reasons why many are leaving New Orleans." He shivered and rubbed his arms. "Even the energy of the city has changed. Can you feel it?" He shook his head. "Most of those who are left behind are too young to know better."

  "Yourself included?"

  He grinned. "I'm leaving shortly." He held up the wad of bills. "I just needed a bankroll to make good my escape." He pocketed the money and stepped out into the street. "Thanks to your generosity, I can leave in style. I'll gather my woman and be little more than a memory within twenty-four hours."

  "Where will you go?"

  "I'm thinking San Francisco maybe. I'm tired of the humidity. There are times when I fear I'll mildew." Whistling an off-key tune, the vampire proceeded up the alley then turned left onto Bourbon Street and out of sight.

  Alexandre followed more slowly, his mind whirling with possibilities. So Cass wanted to see him, did she? Was it possible she wanted to surrender?

  No, not her. Cass wouldn't surrender unless her life was in danger. If anything, she would issue yet another challenge to his rule. That would be more her style.

  The rain increased to a steady downpour as he walked and he silently cursed. At this rate, he'd be drenched within minutes. He was so preoccupied lately. He couldn't remember the last time he'd neglected to bring an umbrella when the forecast called for rain.

  It was all her fault.

  No, he wasn't going to think about her. Time would come soon enough that he'd have to deal with Sunni. Now was not the time.

  He raised his head, the rain pelting his upturned face. Shaking the hair out of his eyes, he found himself staring at the brightly lit sign for the Chat Noir-a favorite preternatural hang out. Normally he disdained such places, but at least it would be dry until the rain slowed and he could go home without drowning.

  Beneath the wrought iron balcony sheltering the entrance, a young male vampire manned the front door flanked by a small group of scantily clad young woman. As their gazes met, the younger simply nodded in acknowledgement and motioned for Alexandre to enter.

  The club was small and packed from wall to wall with both humans and preternaturals alike. The scent of alcohol, fried food and warm humans swirled about his head as he made his way though the crowd. The lighting was low and the music rich, hot jazz. Overhead, ceiling fans stirred the thick air as he approached the bar.

  "Fancy meeting you here."

  He looked over to spy a familiar face. Damien St. James was manning the bar. A vampire of almost seven hundred years, Sinjin, as he was called, was an old and well-respected acquaintance. The last time Alexandre had seen him was almost four months before when they'd laid the immortal's one-time love and Alexandre's co-council, Bliss, to rest in the highlands of Scotland. Her death had been yet another in a long line of senseless killings by one of Mikhail's followers.

  Their gazes met and Sinjin's expression turned solemn in remembrance of their last meeting. Reaching behind the bar, he retrieved a white towel, which he tossed at Alexandre.

  "Yer dripping on my floor." He indicated an empty bar stool. "Come join me."

  Alexandre glanced at the damp floor and grinned. "So I am." He seated himself and toweled the excess moisture from his hair and clothes. "What are you doing here?"

  "Working. I bought this place a few months back. I came in for a visit and, basically, never left."
>
  "You didn't let me know you were in town." He handed the damp towel back to his friend.

  "You've been busy." Sinjin tossed the cloth into a small bin before picking up a clean one. "I heard from Val a few days ago and he said he's come up with nothing. He lost her trail."

  "I called him last night to formally ask him to take an open council position. Lucky for us, he's accepted."

  Sinjin nodded. "Tis good news."

  "As for Miles and Cass, they've surfaced here."

  "In N'awlins?"

  Alexandre nodded. "Cass sent word that she wants to meet me tomorrow."

  "Do you think that's safe?"

  "Safe enough. She wouldn't attempt to kill me without an audience. Knowing her as I do, she'd want the world to witness the day she and Mikhail best the Council, me in particular."

  Sinjin picked up a glass and polished it. "Do you think they're still working together?"

  "I've heard nothing to the contrary."

  "Now that he's wounded, Mikhail's more dangerous than e'er." He set down the glass and selected another. "Let me know if you need backup, I'd be happy to go with ye."

  Alexandre met his friend's gaze. "Thanks, but I think you have enough on your plate as it is."

  Sinjin's expression froze, then turned inward, almost lost. His hands stilled. "I canna help it, I miss her more every day."

  "I do too."

  "We were apart for many years before her death. I'd learned to live without her, but now, I feel like I've lost part of my soul."

  They were silent for a moment, two men sharing the loss of a loved and a well-respected colleague. Bliss' murder had been a devastating blow to the preternatural community as a whole. She'd been a vital link between the preternaturals and the witches, a group that adamantly refused to join the Council. She'd been a rare voice of reason during a time of upheaval, and all who'd been lucky to know and love her felt her absence keenly.

  Alexandre cleared his throat. "How did you end up owning a bar?"

  "In December I came to New Orleans to lose myself and, instead, found a business." A grin broke across Sinjin's face and he set the glass down. "I love it, just love it."