by Danica Avet
Lucian rolled over and grabbed his skull. His head was killing him. Looking at the clock on the wall, he saw it was noon. Not exactly the best time for vampires to be up and about, but he’d been living for long enough that a little sun wouldn’t kill him, much.
Again, he thought of the woman. Confident that Pagan had managed to bring her to The Pit with them and that she was now in one of the other rooms, he crossed his arms behind his head and daydreamed. Just thinking of her being somewhere near had a devastating effect on his libido, and he was more than ready to hunt her down when his door opened. Lucian smiled hugely. He hoped she had a hearty appetite because he didn’t want to waste any time before pounding in that tight body.
Unfortunately for him and his cock, which immediately deflated, it was Pagan. She looked a little freaked out, which was never a good thing.
“What happened?” he asked harshly. He just knew it had to do with her.
Pagan, the bane of most of the Eturi and, hell, most of mankind, bit her lip and looked uncertain, something which Lucian was positive he thought he’d never see in his lifetime.
“I don’t think she’s one of us,” she said quietly.
He frowned, sitting up and leaning against his pillows. He didn’t need to ask who she referred to. “What do you mean?”
She edged into the room and sat on the side of his bed, her face as open as a child’s. “She doesn’t know anything about us, Luc. I followed her. After the fight, which we lost, by the way,” she said wryly. “You lost that fight with the dumpster, Malachi took off, and we had to carry you back here. We lost Karl and Drew when the Eturi sprang a trap on them while they watched out for humans.”
Lucian touched her hand, knowing how much those guys had meant to her. “You okay?”
She shrugged. “We all know what we signed on for when we took the contract to work with The Guardians. I just feel awful for their mates.”
He nodded. Pagan might be one of the toughest beings he’d ever worked with, but she still cared after her crew like no other leader he’d ever worked with. He knew that by the end of the business day Karl and Drew’s mates would have everything they needed to make the transition from life-mate to widowhood easier, and Pagan would do everything in her power to help support their young if needed. It was one of her few weaknesses, which she kept well-hidden from everyone.
“Anyway, I followed after our Chieftain. I don’t think she’s ever been among the Veil before, Luc. I don’t even think she’s even seen a vampire before,” she said with a startled laugh. “When she saw my fangs, she went pale. I could actually smell the blood drain from her face, but she still stood up to me.” She said it with grudging admiration.
Lucian frowned. If what Pagan said was true, then they were dealing with someone who was completely unprepared for the life she was leading. The Chieftain also had to contend with more vampire male she could ever want or prepare for. Most Veilerian females knew the score when it came to sex with a Council apprentice.
Because their lives were devoted to caring for the entire Veil, Councilors didn’t have time to make lifelong commitments. The ones chosen were single and planned to stay that way for a hell of a long time. If, by some freak accident, they did become mated, the Councilors stepped down. If this woman had been completely sheltered from the Veil, then she was a rare jewel indeed, and he refused to feel guilty about his plans to take her.
On top of all of that, she was being chased by Malachi, who was probably one of the most cunning generals to oppose the Veil in eons.
“So you think she was completely sheltered from the Veil and Eturi? Absolutely?” he asked wonderingly.
“Babe, it’s almost like she’s human.”
* * * *
Ruby was back in her car, but the feeling of being watched followed her as always. She almost felt used to it by now. She wondered if the feeling was Julius keeping an eye on her, though she wouldn’t put money on that. There had been something very final about Julius’ death.
It was only Saturday, and she’d already been strangled and tattooed, had inherited some magical power, gotten caught in the middle of two supernatural brawls, and been chased by two gorgeous fiends. The way her luck seemed to be going, she’d wander into World War III by the end of the weekend. Could a girl get any luckier?
“Stop it with the negative waves,” she told herself in her best Donald Sutherland voice and laughed sharply. She was cracking up, she thought. Briggs apparently shared her assessment because he just ignored her.
They were back on 310, headed west this time. Briggs had given up on giving her the cold shoulder and decided to go to sleep. Since leaving the vampire last night, Ruby had skulked around the Quarter, dodging people and shadows and feeling like an idiot. Briggs had tagged along gamely until two o’clock when he’d begun growling at her out of sheer grumpiness.
Nothing and no one had accosted her other than a few drunks who’d tried flashing her for beads. But when they realized all she had was a farting dog, they left her alone.
By dawn, she made it back to the garage, paid the exorbitant fee, and hightailed it out of town, all without seeing a single person from the night before.
Ruby had no idea where she was going. She just rode with the traffic for a while, hoping she could come up with a brilliant plan. For a moment, her mind flashed back to the two men she’d met the night before.
They’d both been gorgeous in their own ways, outrageously so. One had seemed so reasonable, and the other had seemed possessed each time she saw him. His eyes had been green, but she could’ve sworn there had been a tinge of red to them. Both men seemed to want something from her.
She wished Julius could’ve given her a little more information before he died because she was floundering here. Having gone from being a hermit to having people chasing her from one end of the world to the other left her feeling more than a little unbalanced. Ruby sighed. Slight exaggeration there, but going by the previous night she couldn’t operate outside the swampy confines of south Louisiana.
Half an hour later, she took the Houma-Boutte exit to Highway 90. She sighed again. Her subconscious destination was bringing her deeper into Cajun country. There were plenty of small communities here and there, towns where everyone knew everyone else, just like home.
Sugar Swamp hadn’t been anything special, but it had been home. Located south of Thibodaux, it was just a little one-road town that barely had a convenience store and shared a post office with another town. Her little house was at the end of a sugarcane service road that led into the swamp. She preferred it that way. She had been happy.
For some reason, the familiar refrain rang false. For once in a very long time, she imagined being a part of something bigger. Her new status as Chieftain was giving her more contact with strangers than ever, but knowing they needed her was a balm for her soul.
Ruby mumbled to herself. The days of her being invisible were evidently well over, so there was no use in pining over them. She needed to concentrate on the here and now. Like how she was going to evade vampires and whatever those other things were.
She passed through towns like Hahnville, Paradis, and Des Allemands. Her mind calculated the towns and populations. She could lose her followers in small communities like this. Ruby’s heart raced.
She spied a small road leading from the highway and turned off. No cars followed her. In the early morning light, the isolation of the road suited her mood and promised salvation. For the first time in the last three days, she felt hope that she might survive this after all.
By noon, she was firmly ensconced in Cypress Point, Louisiana. Nestled in the heart of Lafourche Parish, Cypress Point was a jewel of a small town. It didn’t have a lot to offer in terms of sophisticated entertainment, but it was a hive of activity this time of year.
The Hourglass was a neat little hotel in the historical district, which really was historical. The buildings dated back as far as the late 1700s and were beautifully restored. The Hourglass
was a converted general store, but you couldn’t tell from looking at it. The exterior had the same stucco appearance as the rest of Main Street with the same colorful awning as the other storefronts.
The personal service Ruby got from the minute she checked in made up for the lack of an elevator. Her room looked over lazy Bayou Lafourche. It had a queen size bed with a bright duvet. Painted a soft rose color with beautiful hardwood floors, it was an adorable country bedroom. The dresser held a cute little pitcher and bowl set in a floral pattern, and Ruby was certain that Stella, the owner, had crocheted the doily the set rested on.
She felt safe in the little room, and Briggs rested comfortably in the dark recesses of the pet house she’d set up in the corner. His snores threatened to put a hole in the wall, but luckily she was the only guest on this side of the hotel. She made sure Briggs had plenty of food and water, and as he’d left his mark on plenty of tires and light posts on his way to the building, Ruby was confident that he would be okay on his own.
“Briggsy, I’m going out for a little bit. Hold down the fort. Don’t answer the door for anyone and if anyone breaks in…pretend you don’t know me,” she advised him. He answered her with another snore and a soft expulsion of air, so Ruby took that as agreement and headed out the door.
Chapter Seven
Downstairs, she waved to Stella, who sat fanning herself behind the desk. The lobby of The Hourglass was unassuming and plain compared to the guest rooms. The dark oak desk held only the register and telephone. There was no computer at this hotel and no online booking because Stella, as the owner and operator, claimed to hate all things electronic.
“Going out?” Stella asked, her plump face covered in a light layer of perspiration. She’d told Ruby she was going through menopause and kept the hotel as cold as possible at all times because as she put it, “I’m so hot I could run around naked ’cept Henri would get jealous.” A beautiful older woman, she’d had taken one look at Ruby’s imposing height and said, “You’ll need the long bed in 214” without even blinking.
Ruby loved her already. “Yes, ma’am,” she said respectfully, careful to keep her face turned to the side.
Before her stop in Cypress Point, she’d stopped at a Super Wal-Mart and bought thick make-up for her face and gloves for her hands. She’d put on the concealer to cover her tattoos and hoped she looked like she had a bad birthmark. So far, it seemed to have worked. The gloves were mesh and she’d cut the fingers off to make them a little less noticeable. She felt more comfortable walking around. Of course, she looked like a punk reject. Thirty year olds should not wear fingerless gloves.
“Have a nice time in town then, dear,” Stella said, taking a gulp of her huge glass of water which was filled to the brim with chunks of ice. “Is your doggy upstairs?”
“Yes, he is. Is that okay?”
“Oh, yes. He’s so cute. Is it okay if I bring him some leftover boudin tomorrow?” she asked with a cheerfulness that blew Ruby’s mind. “We’re going to a party tonight, and we always have leftovers.”
“Um, sure.”
“Wonderful. You have fun and check out the tattoo shop across the street. Kali does wonderful work. All the kids love her,” Stella said with a chirp and waved her out of the door.
Ruby stepped outside and just stood there. Perhaps she hadn’t covered her tattoos as well as she thought she had. Shielding her eyes against the mid-afternoon glare, she looked across the street at the aforementioned tattoo shop called Color Your World.
She nibbled on her lip. Tattoos weren’t her thing. The one she sported now was something she would’ve never picked out for herself. Maybe she could have the work altered.
Cypress Point traffic was nonexistent, even on Main Street, and it seemed that Saturday afternoon was a dead time. Barely looking both ways, Ruby crossed the street, heading for the tattoo parlor.
Wedged between an old-world pharmacy and a lingerie boutique with amazingly racy clothing, the tattoo shop looked at home among the other stores. It had the same graceful, traditional front with dark orange stucco while the stores on either side had pink and red. The large picture windows were covered in artwork from urban graffiti to Celtic crosses.
Ruby opened the door and stepped into the coolness of the lobby, which was covered from floor to ceiling in flash and pictures. The interior wasn’t what she expected from a tattoo parlor.
The walls were painted a caramel color that complimented dark hardwood floors that were, surprisingly, polished to a high shine. There was a light beige curtain at the back of the room that swayed when she entered, so she guessed the work was done back there. End tables and coffee tables in blonde oak, sporting magazines, dotted the room. Stylish scarlet sofas added funkiness to the lobby and offered a place where customers could sit to wait their turn.
Walking around the lobby, Ruby saw most of the pre-designed work was of dragons, hearts, fairies, and things like that. What really blew her mind were the pictures of the hand-drawn tattoos that were artfully displayed.
The one picture she kept going back to was of a woman’s arm where the depiction of Anubis had been tattooed in glorious detail from her shoulder past her elbow. The drawing was so lifelike Ruby almost expected Anubis to turn his head and snarl. She shivered.
“May I help you?” a very deep voice said from behind her.
The drag queen standing in front of her was the last kind of person she had expected when she stepped foot in Cypress Point. Ruby’s mouth fell open. She couldn’t help it.
Kali was her name, and Ruby only knew that because she wore an elegant platinum nameplate necklace with pearls dangling ever so sweetly from the feet of the K and I. Kali was easily six foot seven in her bare feet, and the five inch stilettos she wore put her at seven feet tall. Her white, artsy baby T-shirt showed off bulging biceps and a beautifully sculpted stomach. Her nonexistent hips were encased in a tasteful leather A-line skirt that resembled something a chic schoolteacher would wear.
For being the first real drag queen Ruby had ever seen up close, Kali was beautiful. Deep brown hair with bright red highlights fell to her shoulders in silky waves. Skin the color of cream-laced coffee was stretched taut over an exotically sculpted face. Kali looked as though she’d stepped right off the cover of a magazine. Her face was so perfectly proportionate, with wide cheekbones, a straight nose with flaring nostrils, and beautiful, full lips that she would’ve made Naomi Campbell jealous. If Ruby hadn’t seen Kali’s Adam’s apple, she would’ve thought Kali was just a large female.
“Cat got your tongue?” Kali asked challengingly.
“Um, no,” Ruby said, gathering her thoughts. “Stella told me I should check out your shop.”
A gleam of interest appeared in Kali’s deep brown eyes as an elegantly shaped eyebrow rose. “Really,” she purred. She tapped one long fingernail against her chin as she looked over Ruby. “Well, let’s wipe that god-awful concealer off and take a look at what’s on your face. Come with me.”
Kali led her through the curtain and they entered the room where the real work was done. As far as Ruby could tell, the setup wasn’t much different from any other tattoo shop she’d seen on television except it was very open and the only art was the photographs of the tattoos Kali had done.
The building was long and narrow. The far end of the room contained a small sitting area Kali had obviously set up to consult with clients. The small round table was set for tea for two. Instead of chairs there were a couple of very large, comfortable looking pillows on either side of the table.
“Take off those boots and have a seat,” Kali said and gestured to the left side of the table before removing her own shoes, folding her legs in one easy movement Ruby knew she wouldn’t be able to replicate.
Instead, she sat on the pillow, grunting when she took her boots off and crossed her legs. Kali poured tea for both of them, and Ruby pretended interest in it. She really wasn’t a tea drinker. She preferred coffee or cold water, but it just didn’t seem right t
o refuse.
“So, Ruby, you want to know about your tattoos and if you can alter them,” Kali began after she added liberal amounts of cream and sugar to her tea.
Ruby let out a harsh bark of laughter. She wasn’t terribly surprised Kali knew who she was. For all she knew, Kali was an elf or something and could read her mind.
“Oh, honey, please. Does this body look like it belongs to an elf?” Kali sounded insulted as she passed a hand over her chest. “Elves have no fashion sense besides being overly concerned with modesty. They wouldn’t know a Savio design if it bit them on the ass. No, sugar, I’m an Oracle, which means, yes, I can read your mind. I’ve also been waiting for you for”—she paused to consult the leaves at the bottom of the teapot—“three days. What took you so long?”
Fury and disbelief caused words to stick in her throat. She just sat there staring at Kali, an apparent Oracle, for several long minutes.
“Pissed off, huh? Well, welcome to the Veil. Everyone’s pissed off at someone. The vampires are pissed off at the weres because the weres keep stalking their best donors for sex partners. The succubae are pissed at the nymphs because of an incident with a hat that happened in the 1600s, and the elves are still pissed at the dwarves over some mining issues that happened a millennia ago. The demons and angels have been fighting for so long no one knows what they have left to fight about, and there are so many factions that the Guardian Guild is barely able to keep the Veil from exposing itself to humans. So welcome to the petty, wonderful world of Veilerians. On the other side of the coin is The Eturi. They don’t give a damn if humans find out if we exist or not. They just want power, fame, and fortune, whatever. Amazingly enough, though, they don’t fight amongst themselves. They don’t squabble over petty differences, because they all have the same goal—to take over the human world,” she said, her hands swishing the tea around before placing the pot down with a decisive click.