by Deanna Chase
I thought about texting Jade—my friend and leader of the New Orleans coven—a message, as well, but she was busy dealing with a new baby. Unless something dire happened, I didn’t want to bother her.
He texted right back. What?
She showed up on my float in human form, and now she’s tossing beads out to people who show her their breasts.
It took a moment, and I imagined Julius shaking his head in exasperation before sending his response. Stay with her. I’m tied up at the moment, but will be there as soon as possible. If anything at all strange…err frightening happens, call me ASAP.
Will do.
I put the phone on vibrate and tucked it away.
Ida May was busy having the time of her life, dangling beads and bantering with random strangers as the float rolled on. I stood in the middle of the chaos, taking it all in. Vampire bride hopefuls were drinking hurricanes from oversized glasses. Vale and another young man were weaving their way through the women, making sure everyone had beads or stuffed vampires to throw. And up at the top, near the cake, were Carver and Marcella sparring, just as they’d said they would.
Their movements were precise. Graceful. Everything about each of them screamed power and strength. They matched each other blow for blow, each anticipating the other’s moves. Not once did either get a clean strike. There was something about their technique I couldn’t put my finger on.
It was too perfect. Too calculated.
Too…supernatural.
Chapter 5
Were they witches? I squinted up at Carver. It was possible. Sex witches maybe. That would explain why they were both so beautiful.
Vale brushed past me and then stopped suddenly. “Is something wrong, Pyper?”
“Why?” I narrowed my eyes at him, suspicious. He was part of Carver’s inner circle.
“Nothing. You just seem like you’re not having any fun. Can I get you anything? A hurricane? Or Champagne?”
“Oh, no.” I waved a hand, feeling foolish. This guy was just a college student making some extra cash. Nothing odd about him at all. “Thanks, but I’m the designated keeper tonight.” I cast a glance at Ida May. “Someone needs to make sure she stays out of trouble.”
He laughed and tilted his head toward Carver and Marcella. “I know the feeling.”
The two sparring above us didn’t seem quite as perfect as they had before in their movements. Marcella slipped and stumbled to the right, which threw Carver off his next blow, and he lunged forward, unable to stop his momentum. Both paused the fight and started to laugh at something Marcella had said.
“They seem like they’re enjoying themselves,” I said, wondering if I’d let my imagination get the better of me earlier.
“They were overdue.” Vale eyed them with a quiet smile, the kind usually reserved for those one’s closest to.
Carver turned to the crowd. “It’s important that my bride likes to have fun, and I think judging by the party we’ve managed to throw, that you’ve all passed that test.”
“Damn straight! And I’ve got incriminating photos to prove it,” a woman said from behind me.
The speaker once again was the redhead. She had a pile of beads around her neck and nothing else. Her top was gone, and while the beads covered most of her chest, one nipple was peeking out from between the strands.
Lord. Someone needed to take away her drinking privileges.
“But there’s more to being a vampire bride than just having fun,” Carver continued. “Vampires have a long history of being hunted. Therefore, it’s important you all know how to fight. Marcella and I just put on a demonstration. Now it’s your turn. Only the fiercest will be considered. I don’t want to meet the love of my life, and then be left a widower when she can’t avoid a stake. That would be tragic.” He placed his hand over his heart and turned puppy-dog eyes on the crowd.
It worked like a charm. A collective awww went up among the women.
I rolled my eyes.
Vale chuckled. “You’re not buying any of his bullshit, are you?”
“He is laying it on pretty thick.”
“It’s just part of the show. If Carver’s smart, he’ll pick you.”
I shook my head. “I’m taken.”
Vale shrugged. “Who cares? So is he.”
“Really?” That was news. He was an outrageous flirt, but then so was I…usually.
“Sure. You didn’t know he’s with Marcella?”
I snapped my attention back to the pair now each sparring with some of the bride hopefuls. “No wonder they look magical when they’re together.”
Vale turned his head and studied me. “What do you mean ‘magical’?”
“There’s just something about the way they move. When they were sparring, it was almost too perfect. Ethereal. You know?” I eyed a tray of hurricanes one of the women carried as it went by, and I immediately regretted my resolve to stay focused on Ida May. A drink was pretty much exactly what I needed at that moment. “Have they been together a long time?”
“Longer than most,” he said and passed his last bag of stuffed vampires off to one of the riders. “Years. But like I said, they don’t see each other often. Marcella is usually…away for long stretches of time.”
“That’s rough. I had a long-distance relationship once, but being apart didn’t work for us. I know Carver’s busy building up his club. What does Marcella do?” She was so elegant in her costume, it was hard to imagine her working a regular job at all. I pictured her sipping sweet tea on the veranda while discussing which charity gala to attend.
He shrugged. “Mostly, she spends her time planning things.” He gestured to the float. “The wedding was her idea.”
“Really?” An event planner who was always out of town? Maybe her business was rooted in another city. Plus, Carver was sort of new in town. “Seems like with what they both do, it shouldn’t be too hard for one of them to relocate.”
He snorted out a laugh. “They’re working on it.” Then he jerked his head toward Carver and Marcella. “Ready to spar?”
“Oh, I don’t think so. I’m not interested in winning a date with Carver.” My fingers inched to check my phone to see if Julius had texted, but it was set to vibrate, and I hadn’t felt anything.
“Date?” He laughed. “If you think Marcella is going to let him spend any time with the chosen one, well…think again. Na, this is just about putting on a show, and the ones up there right now are failing. Badly.”
Carver was currently sidestepping Morticia and staring at her with disgust. Her sporadic moves resembled someone having a seizure. The only way she’d be able to land a blow was by pure luck. If fighting was a requirement, she’d just been disqualified.
I glanced over at Ida May. She was working her way through two bags of throws with one inappropriate comment after another. “Oh, honey. You know they have silicone these days, right?” and “Have you considered phalloplasty? It might help you get your confidence back.”
I would have died from embarrassment back at the café, but here, on the float in the middle of a parade, she was in her element. There seemed no real reason to babysit her, except for that pesky fact that she’d turned human. I leaned in behind her and said, “Stay here, okay? I’m going to go talk to Carver.”
“Pfft. I’m not going anywhere. Not as long as the throws and hurricanes hold out, anyway.”
Judging by the pile of beads at her feet and the giant three-foot-tall plastic hurricane glass in her hand, there was no chance of her jumping ship anytime soon. “Okay, then. I’ll be back. Try to behave.”
She twisted and gave me a horrified look. “You’ve got to be kidding me. It’s Halloween. And I’ve been dead for decades. Behaving isn’t on my agenda.”
I bit back a laugh. “Fair enough. Just don’t wander off anywhere without me.”
She waved a dismissive hand and went back to entertaining the crowds.
“Lead on,” I said to Vale.
He waved a hand. “A
fter you.”
Chapter 6
“You need to choose Pyper,” Vale said to Carver.
I stood next to Vale and his uncle as the three of us watched Marcella continue to spar with the redhead.
“What makes you think that?” Carver asked, curiosity in his tone.
“Just trust me,” he said.
“Die, bitch,” Redhead cried and brandished a silver spike, lunging at Marcella, barely missing her shoulder.
I gasped. What the hell was she doing? This was make-believe, not Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
An ugly scowl claimed Marcella’s face. In one quick movement, she seized Redhead’s wrist and plucked the spike from her hand. Then she spun the girl around and caught her in a chokehold. “Never speak to me that way again. Got it?”
I watched, my eyes widening at the fierceness in Marcella’s tone.
“I’m just playing the game,” Redhead squeaked.
“Respect. Learn it.” Marcella released her and stood there fuming as her eyes shifted from black to brilliant blue and then back again.
“Whoa,” I said to Carver. “How’d she do that?”
“She’s very skilled at fighting. That move was pretty basic, actually.”
“No, not that. Her eyes. Does she have some sort of special contacts? I’d be all over those for the gallery shows I do.” I had recently begun selling prints of my body-painted models. At the shows, I usually had a few painted people milling about to show off my work.
“That’s what I was talking about,” Vale said to Carver. “She sees things. That makes her a worthy pick.”
I frowned at them. “What are you talking about?”
Carver’s lips turned up into a slow smile. “Are you a seer?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m more of a medium.”
“You can talk to ghosts then?” Carver asked, interest sparkling in his eyes.
“Yes.” I sighed, wishing I was anywhere but trapped on the float. It wasn’t that it bothered me to talk about my ability—I just hated when people started asking questions about those they’d lost. My gift didn’t work that way.
“It bothers you to talk about it?” Carver asked.
“No. I was just hoping for a night off,” I said, forcing a smile.
“We’re not asking you to contact anyone,” Carver said. “Tonight would be useless anyway. Too much chaos. But you are very interesting.” He clamped his hand on Vale’s back. “You’re right. I think we’ve made our decision, but it’s best if we at least go through the motions of sparring.”
“I don’t think—”
Carver wrapped his freezing hand around my wrist and pulled me into the middle of the platform. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
And before I could protest again, he reached for me with lightning speed. My defense training kicked in, and I spun, catching his arm with both hands, and then yanked it back as hard as I could.
A voice in the back of my mind kept protesting, warning me that this was just a show. We were on a float in the middle of the parade, people partying all around us. But I ignored it. This felt real.
Carver twisted and easily freed himself from my grasp, and in the next instant, his leg kicked out, knocking me on my ass. I rolled, coming up on my feet, ready for more.
Carver grinned, showing those fangs again. A chill ran up my spine. The campiness had disappeared and moved straight into one hundred percent creepy. He feigned right, then left and when I miscalculated by going for a blow to his gut and missed, he grabbed my wrist and twisted me until my back was flush against his chest. He held me in a death grip and dipped his head down to my neck, his cold-ass breath making me feel sick to my stomach.
“Hey!” Ida May called. “Get off her. Just because everyone else on this float wants to throw their panties at you doesn’t mean Pyper is that kind of girl.”
I glanced up, finding Ida May, steamrolling straight for us.
“She’s right, you know,” I said. “I’m not the panty-throwing kind of girl.”
“Why do you think I want you so much?” he whispered. “It’s been about a century since I’ve had a really good challenge.”
“Cut it out, Saint. This vampire shtick is getting really old.” My patience had long since disappeared, and his act was really pissing me off.
A laugh rumbled up from the back of his throat. “You really don’t get it, do you—oomph!”
We both jerked forward from a sudden impact, and if Carver hadn’t been hanging on to me, I was certain I’d have face-planted. Instead, Carver regained his balance and steadied me, never once letting go.
“I said, get off her.” Ida May stood off to the side, holding a bag of beads. “Or do you want me to smack you in the head this time?”
Her eyes were narrowed and full of venom. It was an expression I’d never seen on her before.
Marcella stepped up beside her, laughing to herself. “You two are perfect.”
“Excuse me.” I felt Carver’s grip on me relax, and without another thought, I jabbed my elbow as hard as I could into his gut.
He grunted and released me. I was certain it was more from shock than strength, but that was all I’d been going for anyway.
Ida May grabbed my hand and tugged me to her side. “We’ll be leaving now,” she told Carver. “No one manhandles my friend like that.”
“Neither of you are going anywhere.” Marcella snapped her fingers, and suddenly, all the wannabe brides froze in place…everyone except for Ida May and me.
My ghostly friend stilled and looked around in confusion while the parade goers let out gasps of delighted surprise. She glared at Marcella. “What the bloody hell are you up to?”
“You, Ms. Ida May, and your friend Pyper here are the two lovely women who’ve been picked to be Carver’s brides,” Marcella said with a saccharine-sweet smile.
“What? No,” I cried.
“Two brides? I’m not going to be anyone’s sister wife. You’ve lost your dammed mind if you think I’m going to share.” Ida May fisted her hands on her hips and fixed them both with a deranged stare.
“Ida May,” I whispered. “We’re supposed to be leaving, remember?”
“Right, right. Sorry. They distracted me with their crazy.” She turned back to Carver. “We’re leaving. Find some other suckers to marry.”
“That’s not going to happen.” Marcella nodded to Vale, who moved to stand in front of the makeshift stairs, blocking our exit. “You two are the most entertaining. And above all, the show must go on.”
I took a step back, prepared to jump off this freak show, but Carver wrapped his hands around my arms, stopping me. His hands were ice cold, and I shivered as he whispered, “Where’re you going, my friend?”
“Let go,” I demanded, my flight instinct kicking in. There was something seriously off about all three of them. I’d brushed it off as Halloween costumes and shenanigans, but that didn’t explain Marcella’s crazy color-flashing eyes, Carver’s ice-cold touch, or the bloody fangs I’d seen after Marcella had appeared to bite that stranger from the crowd.
Even though everything was supposed to be a show, there was no denying all signs pointed to vampire—real, cold-blooded, neck-biting, blood-sucking fiends.
My world spun slightly as I imagined myself in some weird alternate reality. Were Carver, Vale, and Marcella really vamps? Was all of this for real?
No. That was crazy. Vampires didn’t exist. Witches, demons, angels, even incubi. But vampires? Surely if that were the case, I’d have known that by now. Wouldn’t I?
No.
The voice was the one in the back of my head that knew better. I’d seen far too much over the last few years. Time to call in the cavalry. I whipped out my phone and was two lines into a group text to Julius and every other witch and incubus I knew when Carver grabbed the phone out of my hand, threw it on the ground, and crushed it with his ugly-ass boot.
“Hey! You bastard.” I slugged him in the chest and winced at
the hard impact. “Ouch. Son of a bitch. You owe me for that. Do you know how much iPhones cost?”
Carver gripped the back of my neck and squeezed. “You don’t need a phone for the foreseeable future,” he said in a quiet conversational tone, though his hand was digging into my flesh so hard, I got the feeling if I moved, he’d snap me in two. “Now relax. Protesting is only going to make things worse for Ida May.”
What the hell did that mean? Worse for Ida May?
The ghost in question was fighting Vale’s hold as he piled her hair on the top of her head while Marcella waited with an antique veil.
“You two are going to pay. I know people! Powerful witches and demon hunters. Get off me,” she demanded, but neither paid her any mind.
Marcella jabbed the haircomb into Ida May’s bun with so much force, Ida May flinched.
“Watch it, would ya? Damn.” She lifted her hand and rubbed at the spot on her head. “I think you might have drawn blood.”
The ugly scowl on Marcella’s face made me wonder why I’d ever thought she was so beautiful. She snapped her fingers again, and the rest of the women on the float came to life, each resuming their activities without ever missing a beat.
Carver leaned down and said, “Relax. It’s just a party. In a few minutes, you and Ida May will be the stars of the show.”
Just a party. Right. That’s why he smashed my phone. Uh huh. A ritual is what Marcella had said. But for what? I turned, eyeing Vale, who was still blocking the stairs. The only way off this horror trap was if I wanted to fling myself over the side. I might’ve resorted to that if it hadn’t been for Ida May.
Carver, still clutching my neck, dragged me over to where Ida May stood in the middle of the platform. Her moth-eaten veil made her look as though she’d just climbed out of a tomb.
“Can you believe this?” she asked me, waving a hand at the offending piece of lace. “Don’t they know how to preserve anything?”
“Does it matter?” I asked her.
“Of course it does. It’s hideous. Even if this is a forced, vampire-harem wedding, I still want to look good.”
The float came to a stop in the middle of Canal Street, the place the wedding and blood ritual was supposed to happen.