by Danica Avet
The way she was traveling, there had been no chance to stop and tell anyone where she was or where she was going. She wasn’t even sure where she was going. She’d hit the road and stopped as little as possible. Once in a while, the prickling feeling at the back of her neck would subside, but it would come back just as fast and she’d be speeding down the highway again.
That would have to end. Briggs was passing too much gas from the never-ending travel and she wasn’t sure she could stand the noxious fumes any longer. She had to stop somewhere and let him get settled in.
They were currently on LA-310 eastbound for New Orleans, which had seemed like the perfect place to lose herself. Briggs was not taking his new status as a world traveler lightly. He sat staring morosely at the passing scenery, his furry butt planted on his travel box so he could look out the passenger window of her ’86 Mustang. At nine o’clock on a Friday night, the roads were beginning to thicken with partygoers heading into the city to experience sin New Orleans style.
As if sensing her checking on him, Briggs looked at her over his shoulder. He farted. She gagged.
“God help us, Briggsy,” she coughed and rolled down her window. “No more treats for you until we’re settled somewhere.”
He just sighed at her, the most long-suffering pet in the world.
A car of teenagers sped by, honking and hollering. “Whooooo! Meet us at Razoo’s!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Ruby muttered and kept to her lane.
Forty-five minutes later, she parked in an overpriced parking garage.
Ruby leaned her head against the steering wheel for several long minutes, not quite sure she was up to facing the crowds on the streets below the parking garage. Could she actually do it? Could she immerse herself in the waves of humanity below? She wasn’t quite the same person she’d been the last time she’d braved such large crowds. Something told her she could walk down there and she wouldn’t freeze. She wouldn’t feel the same panic she did any time she was around people. The power burned in the back of her mind, seeing the many possibilities before her.
Walking out on those streets, she could get lost among them for a little while. Maybe she could buy enough time to formulate a more solid plan. Sometimes the strange instinct cautioned her that not all of the beings were after her death, but even then, she wasn’t easy with the sensation of being followed, no matter whom or what followed her.
Briggs shifted his weight, bringing her mind back to the present. Of course, the chances of her roaming around the city unnoticed were slim. Ruby didn’t kid herself. With her extreme height and now the tattoos adorning her face and neck, she’d stand out even more, no matter if she wore sunglasses to hide the blackened eyes. People may not remember everything about her or where she was going, but they’d remember having seen her. Simple as that.
She did think about using a baseball cap to hide her femininity, but some innate sense was instantly repulsed by the idea. It shuddered along her spine, down her arms and legs, making her clench her fingers in discomfort. No, dressing up and pretending to be a man didn’t flip her Twinkie. Once she pushed that plan completely from her mind, her body relaxed. Frowning at her bizarre subconscious behavior, Ruby flexed the muscles in her arms and legs, hoping to ease the tension.
Her only option was to brazen it out and hope that by the time her pursuers caught up with her, she’d be farther away. She had no real option other than taking to the swamps, but something was missing from the equation, like some elemental component key to her continued survival danced beyond her reach. What it could be she had no idea.
The old Ruby surfaced momentarily, quaking with self-doubt and the familiar fear of rejection. Unbidden, a hard-learned lesson rose to mind, blocking out the view of the streets below.
Ruby scowled at the skyline. With one stupid, stubborn desire to be like a normal kid, she’d changed the entire course of her and her father’s lives. Her lesson had come at the expense of her ever-patient father, but she lived with the results every day. She hadn’t always wanted to be alone. She’d once dreamed of having friends and boyfriends, but for some reason, she frequently reacted aggressively towards males. That aggressiveness was what cost her father his sizeable fortune and pushed her towards hermithood.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she idly wondered if Julius had been correct and she was part Amazon. It would’ve explained so much, but she didn’t believe in that shit. She was still having doubts about her new “abilities,” and she didn’t need to tack on mythological genetics to know she’d screwed up big time in her youth.
Dan Edwards had shredded her self-esteem and any confidence she had in her desirability by taking her virginity and abusing her trust. With that one act, she eschewed any contact with the outside world. Of course, the vengeful Ruby said with malice, Dan had paid for hurting her.
Her natural aggression towards men had come out with howling fury when Dan deflowered her, ending with Dan hospitalized from her attack. She’d spent a few nights in juvie while awaiting arraignment, cursing her stupidity in trusting a male not related to her. The trial had ruined her father’s finances as well as any chance Ruby had at a normal life, but Dan had paid for his behavior.
Ruby scoffed at the thought as she rubbed her temples. She’d been paying for his behavior, too, with her inability to trust herself or anyone else. She was a grown woman. She could face the thousands of people on the streets below. Her father would’ve been strongly disapproving to see that his daughter had become a coward.
Levy would’ve told her to listen to her mind and soul, to figure out what was going on in and around her. Ruby closed her eyes and did just that.
The Instinct reared up again, flinging her head back as it burned a warning across her brain. Danger. They were coming, and they were close. Not sure if she feared having people stare at her on the streets more than she did the unknown element stalking her, Ruby grabbed Briggs and raced into the waiting arms of her worse nightmare.
Chapter Four
Armed with her overweight dog and her newly created Instincts, she headed into the Quarter. The daytime tourists had already headed back to their hotels and the more daring adventurers had come out with the locals just starting to crowd the streets. In the South, it was a rite of passage for teenagers to head to the twenty-four hour party town at least once and take in the sights.
Tonight, though, she wasn’t looking for a good time. She sought a hiding place. Her heart pounded with anxiety, and her skin felt as though it would split if someone touched her. She needed to get away from people, get isolated. It wouldn’t be easy since six foot two inches of woman was kind of hard to hide. Add to that an English bulldog with a flatulence problem and you’ve got a recipe for disaster, but Ruby couldn’t have left him behind.
Briggs groaned at her, his claws clicking on the pavement. He hated walking more than he thought necessary which, in his case, was from the sofa to his food bowl. “I know you don’t want to walk anymore, but you have to,” she whispered to him as nonchalantly as she could, trying to keep an eye out for The Chateau d’Ours.
She’d flipped through the phone book at a gas station and found the hotel, listed as “a pet friendly and very reasonably priced hotel within walking distance of St. Louis Cathedral.” Not that she was religious, but if the things chasing her were evil, then a Catholic church as old as St. Louis might be her only place of refuge. When she’d called earlier, the owner assured her the hotel never filled up because it was off the beaten path.
Two hours later, she considered admitting defeat. Briggs was in the crook of her arm, snoring like a drunken sailor, having given up on walking six blocks earlier, and her feet were dragging. She stood on the corner of Canal and Royal Street, having crossed Canal four times already.
Some instinct made her stop and look around. People were passing her, all of them in a hurry to go somewhere. The hodgepodge of people littering the streets represented the true New Orleans. Some were dressed for partying while others
were dressed for work, either going home, or on their way to their job. Some waited for the bus. Others stood around doing nothing. There were a few people watching the foot traffic as though waiting for a chance to take advantage.
None of those people caused her internal radar to go off. Something else made her want a wall at her back. Slowly, she eased away from the busy corner, wedging her back against the edge of the hotel behind her. She could see down Canal and Royal Street. No one seemed to be paying her any attention, but something was different. Not quite the Instinct, but something else was approaching and she wasn’t sure if it was friend or foe.
Briggs woke up and looked at her balefully. Ruby put him down, holding his leash in a loose grip. She didn’t want him hurt if something went down like a fight or if she had to run and she couldn’t do either with his dead weight in her arms.
Two women sauntered up Canal, and she might’ve never paid attention to them except she saw an aura around both of them that no one else mirrored. The auras weren’t a color like she heard people mention on talk shows, but appeared as intense heat radiating from their bodies. The invisible ripples distorted their surroundings but gave her a crystal clear view of them.
One woman was nearly as tall as Ruby with electric blue hair and tattoos all over her body. She was muscular without being bulky and moved like a panther. The other woman was petite and fragile looking with platinum blonde hair in neon rubber band spikes all over her head. She was rounder than the tattooed woman but no less graceful in her movements.
Ruby turned her face to the side, hiding her markings and pretended interest in the opposite direction.
“…we’re staying at Chateau d’Ours as usual,” the blonde was saying to her friend, waving her hand down Royal Street. “You should stop by to see him.”
Ruby’s eyes followed the blonde’s hand movement. The hotel could be found down this street according to Blondie. She wasn’t sure she could trust the coincidence, though, since her instinct was telling her it sounded like a trap. Who were they? Were they part of a trap? Why could she see their auras?
Blue and tattooed loosened a throaty laugh, saying something that didn’t register as they continued walking down Royal Street. They paid little or no attention to Ruby, barely giving Briggs a look as he sat at her feet basking in his aroma.
Biting her lip and keeping her eyes glued to the duo until they passed from sight, Ruby felt the instinctive flight response begin to fade. Her tense muscles began to relax and her breathing calmed. She leaned against the building and closed her eyes with a shuddering breath.
“You okay, miss?” a deep voice asked from somewhere in front of her.
The instinct hadn’t flared up again, so it was probably safe to assume the speaker didn’t mean her harm. Cracking open an eye, Ruby looked around and finally down to see one of New Orleans’ finest standing in front of her.
She nodded. “Yes, Officer,” she croaked and stood straight. Just what she needed—to get involved with the cops. “Just giving my feet a break.” Ruby attempted a helpless smile. That so did not work when you towered over an officer with a Napoleon complex and you looked like a refugee from a post-apocalyptic movie.
“You have any ID?” he asked briskly, his cold eyes skimming over her body, pausing on the generous curves revealed by her tank top that just so happened to be level with his nose. Ruby watched his eyes dilate and felt her stomach sour. He wouldn’t have been a bad looking guy if it hadn’t been for the corruption in his eyes.
Ew, she thought with an inner grimace, pulling her license out of her front pocket. She’d stopped carrying purses around years ago because she hated things hanging off of her. Of course, that was before she took in Briggs.
The cop’s fingers brushed the palm of her hand and Ruby saw more of Officer Doyle Green than she ever wanted to. Ruby saw his past. She saw that his mom and dad had raised him right, giving him the proper Catholic upbringing so prevalent in most of South Louisiana. He’d been an altar boy, never molested, though he’d claimed to have been when he was eighteen. The priest he accused had caught Doyle about to rape another altar boy, a kid too scared to come out about what really happened.
The downward spiral continued, growing worse with each offense. He’d committed sexual harassment at the police academy, and looted houses, stores, and pharmacies during Hurricane Katrina. She saw his future and the future of the kids he would abuse as a police officer. He wouldn’t limit himself to males, but would torment and abuse both sexes.
He was hungry for power, and he would kiss the right ass to get it. He’d never marry, just continue a cycle of pain and humiliation until it all came back to him. The little boy he attempted to rape when he was eighteen would shoot him twenty years from now.
Ruby wasn’t sure how long they stood on the street corner as she had a glimpse into the past and future of Doyle Green. She was horrified and sickened by what she saw and worried she made a noise to alert him, but she must’ve played it cool because he never looked up from her license. He studied it as though he were trying to memorize her vital statistics.
Meanwhile, Briggs had decided it was time to see to his personal grooming, cleaning parts of his anatomy that weren’t supposed to see the light of day.
With another glance at her chest, Green gave Ruby her license back and tried a smarmy smile. “Sorry to bother you, Ms. Fontenot. We’ve just had some problems with vagrants in town, and a pretty lady like you should be careful,” he said, his voice just as oily as the glance he passed over her cleavage.
Ruby just gave him a tight smile. More like he decided he couldn’t shakedown an almost local, so now he was going to try to load on the charm. It took everything she had not to beat the hell out of him where he stood, knowing what he would do to hundreds of kids and teenagers. She couldn’t prove anything and that was the only thing holding her back. It was almost enough to make her lose her mind.
After a long silent moment, he tipped his hat at her and moseyed away, a man who would ruin hundreds of lives and cause the distrust of thousands because of his greed. Ruby shuddered and leaned back against the building, praying for strength. She had to figure out a way to keep from accidentally touching people again. There was no way she was going to have flashbacks and forwards like that every time someone touched her palm.
She stood there for several minutes. Briggs continued his impromptu bath to the amusement of the passing partygoers. Ruby couldn’t have cared less. She was tired. Both she and Briggs needed some sleep so they could get back on the road as soon as possible.
Cars honked as traffic became heavier, and the foot traffic increased as people flocked to Bourbon Street, and Ruby decided she had to get her butt in gear. Tugging on Briggs’ leash, she headed back into the Quarter to find her hotel.
* * * *
Malachi Cromwell watched her walk down the street, the sway of her hips keeping to a rhythm only she heard. It was a seductive dance that called to him. He smiled. She was his and she didn’t even know it. His associate had promised the Chieftain to Malachi in return for a little chaos, and Malachi was only too happy to oblige. From the moment his Pet had informed him of the new Chieftain’s sex, he’d known she was his.
He kept pace with her, watching the way the humans shot surprised glances her way. He snorted. Fools, he thought. They were intimidated by her height and the markings of a warrior on her face and neck. Little did they know that with her powers and physique, and with him by her side, she could rule all of them.
Curiously, she seemed to be following a Veilerian vampire and werewolf. Malachi frowned and quickened his pace. His enforcers kept to the shadows but didn’t come any closer to him or his prey. He’d made sure they understood he would hunt the Chieftain alone. They were backup to make sure the bloody Council didn’t get their hands on him or the Chieftain and, by the looks of it, his enforcers would get a chance to do their jobs today.
Smiling maliciously, he sauntered after his female, his eyes glued to her ba
ckside. He mentally prepared his approach at the same time trying to decide how he was going to avoid killing the Veilerians he was sure to fight with tonight.
* * * *
Lucian waited in the prearranged spot. Chateau d’Ours was the drop-off point. Pagan and Marie were supposed to lead the Chieftain down Royal, through the hotel, and into the trap. That was the plan at least. Chieftains were ornery fellows in Lucian’s experience, not that he blamed the lads.
After eons of being chased around every continent, ring of heaven and hell, and dimension known to Eturians and Veilerians, Chieftains were bound to be wary of anyone. They stuck to themselves and only talked to outsiders when they needed to. But, having been after the last Chieftain for the past twenty-five years, Lucian wasn’t leaving New Orleans without him, no matter how cranky the old guy was.
Patience was common to vampires and he had it in abundance, so he barely breathed as he stood unmoving in the shadow of the d’Ours lobby. His hiding place gave him a perfect view of the entrance and all who entered.
The message from Pagan had come to him at 8:56 and he’d been in his spot at 9:02. It was now nine thirty and he was still waiting for the girls and the Chieftain to show up.
Twelve Veilerians had come and gone through the lobby since he took up his post, and not one of them had noticed him. Four of them had been nymphs, three had been centaurs, two were werewolves, and the rest had been half-breeds of varying races. Luckily for them, none had been Eturians. That would’ve just been bad—for them.
His ears prickled. He could hear Pagan and Marie talking loudly. Lucian barely kept himself from rolling his eyes. They were horrible actresses. They strolled through the lobby, two lethal females trying to pretend they were tattooed versions of Valley Girls. They were chattering and oh-my-God-ing so much, he wanted to tell them to gag themselves with a spoon. They passed him, Pagan giving him a barely discernable nod. The Chieftain was right behind them.