“Be courteous. We are in her home,” she said as she knocked.
The door swung open as if the kid on the other side had been waiting for them. About eighteen, tall and muscular, with shaggy black hair, he looked them up and down before nodding. He stepped back, his billowing sky-blue pants swishing as he moved. “She’s in back.”
“Thank you, Jeremiah,” Cat said, striding inside.
Eric studied the kid. He wasn’t a vampire, but neither was he mortal. Eric didn’t even think he was human. The form he wore was a mask, an ingenious one. Who would suspect a kid of anything?
The boy simply watched him, his eyes enigmatic, face unemotional but for a flickering light in the depths of his eyes.
He spun, heading down a shadowed, narrow hallway to a bedroom.
Eric followed Cat inside the room, then stopped short.
A woman, Malia, he presumed, sat at a large, cherry-wood dressing table complete with a mirror stretching to the ceiling. She currently wore nothing but a sequined bra and matching panties, the same blue as the young man’s pants. Over her dusky skin, darker navy hues were painted in lines along her arms and legs. Strange patterns swirled around her eyes, and down her nose and cheeks.
“Good, you’re not late.” Her voice was as exotic as her looks, filled with a smoky essence. She finished applying some eye makeup, then grabbed her long black hair and began braiding it with a strip of white silk.
“Masque?” Cat asked, taking a seat on the bed.
Uncomfortable, and unsure where exactly it was safe to look, Eric leaned against the wall near the door, crossing his arms and staring at Cat.
“You know it, darlin’. Another night, another party. ’Tis New Orleans.”
The women chatted for a few minutes, polite pleasantries that set his teeth on edge.
“So, who’s the muscle?” Malia asked, appraising him.
“Out-of-towner.”
“You bring him in?”
“I did.”
Malia tsked. “Not good.”
“What do you know?” Cat asked.
“This and that,” Malia replied with a grin. “There’s a rumor going round a certain vampire is missing.”
“He is.”
“Shit. That ain’t right.” Malia jumped up, pacing between the bed and the mirrored table.
Eric straightened, ready to demand answers. He didn’t have time to sit around here while Cat caught up with old friends.
As if reading his mind, Cat sent him a glance and shook her head.
Malia caught the movement and stared his way. “Himself not used to the way things work down here?”
Cat replied, “He’s not.”
“Pretty to look at though. Suppose that makes up for some shortcomings.” Malia shot him a sensual smile, but he felt only mild discomfort at her blatant appraisal.
A pink tinge brightened Cat’s cheeks. “So, what have you heard?”
“Missing. Murdered. Not just vamps, either.” Malia shivered.
Jeremiah strode into the room, his enigmatic, inhuman gaze sweeping over everything. As if sensing Malia’s distress, he wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her arms and resting his chin on the top of her head.
She said, “Guess I’ll be giving this information now. I’ll take payment later.”
“Fine,” Cat replied without hesitation, as if what the woman had just agreed to was of no consequence. She was far too trusting for her own good.
He wanted to call back her dangerous word.
Malia glanced at him, her smile widening as if sensing his discomfort. The air lay still, heavy. Finally, she refocused on Cat. “Somethin’ dark be movin’ round.”
“Yeah. I’ve felt it,” Cat replied.
“Somethin’ big. Bigger than I’ve ever seen, perhaps.”
Chapter Five
Eric straightened as an itch crawled down his spine. The room filled with silent tension for a long moment.
“Do you know who... or what it is?” Cat asked.
Malia shook her head, her long braid swinging. “Nah. But methinks it might be time for a vacation.” Her dark eyes shimmered with unnatural, silvery light. “You best be leaving too.”
“You know I can’t. There are too many here that need my protection. The guards haven’t gotten everyone out of the city and to safety yet.”
Malia smiled, but instead of humor, it was... predatory. “Then best you be coming with me tonight. There’s supposed to be a man at the Masque who’s helping people on their way out of town. Only, a couple of vamps he’s ‘helped’ have been the ones turning up murdered.”
Cat stiffened. “When and where is the party?”
“’Tis ‘underground’, so few know of it. Jeremiah will draw you a map.” She reached up and pulled the man’s head down, kissing him hard.
After a long moment, Eric worried they’d been forgotten
Finally, Jeremiah straightened. “Follow me.” He strode down the hall.
Eric headed after him. A moment later, Cat joined them in the living room, her cheeks a bright pink.
“What did she say to you?” he asked.
She mumbled something, shaking her head. When Jeremiah held out the map, Cat snatched it before Eric could.
“This time, we’ll be going together,” she said sweetly, but with a hint of steel. “I suggest you find a costume shop and rent something, if you want to fit in. Then meet me at my house in an hour. We can head out from there.”
Without giving him a chance to argue, she swept out of the apartment, map firmly in hand.
Eric turned to leave, but the jingling of bells caught his attention as Malia entered the room. She appraised him once more, tapping a finger against her chin. “Methinks you had better take care of her, Warrior.”
“I don’t shirk my duty,” he replied.
Her eyes lit, as if she was silently laughing at him. “Nuh. Duty? If that’s what you think...” Her laughter trailed off as she headed back to her bedroom, leaving him wondering what exactly her last quip had been about.
As he strode along the street to find a costume shop, he was accompanied by the whispered threats and echoing laughter of his past.
“Warrior, she called you.” The sorceress’s voice filled his head. “A warrior afraid of his own shadow.”
He ignored her the best he could, but as imagined flames flickered along his scars, merely walking became difficult.
And he wondered how exactly he planned to keep Cat safe at this party, when he couldn’t even get away from himself.
* * *
Cat finished the last touches to her makeup, then headed downstairs. She’d heard Eric arrive a while ago. As she reached the foyer, she caught sight of him pacing impatiently.
She laughed, the sound filling the entryway, at his costume.
With the black, high-collared cape over a dark suit, and the inky dye covering his hair, he could pass for a Bela Lugosi impersonator.
He spun, glancing at her, then did a double-take.
“Great minds and all that?” She twirled, letting her own cape flutter around her bare legs. Her short, strapless black dress would have never been proper in an old black and white movie, but she figured she still passed as a vampire.
His permanently stern expression cracked as he nearly grinned, then catching himself, he scowled once more.
“Don’t worry. I’m certain no one will think we’re together,” she told him sarcastically.
“In any case, it’s too late for me to buy another costume.”
His angered reply set her teeth on edge, but she continued to smile. “If you’re ready?”
He nodded and held out his hand.
“What?”
“The directions?”
“Oh, we’ll get there. Now, who’s driving?”
He didn’t reply, merely headed outside and to his SUV, then held the passenger door open.
Twenty minutes and an awkwardly silent drive later, Cat was wishing she’d slipped out without
him.
He radiated tension. It was all too clear he had no desire to be there, or to help her. She couldn’t understand why he’d even come.
Duty, he’d called it.
Archaic. If that really was his reason, he was more of a throwback to pre-history than she’d thought.
They pulled up in front of a well-lit mansion. Even from outside, she could hear the beat of the music. A valet stepped up to Eric’s door, swinging it open with a smile.
From the way the man’s face paled, she figured Eric was using his “Don’t mess with my stuff” glare. The valet hurriedly pointed to where they could park.
Tired of his attitude, she jumped out of the car before he could pull forward. “I’ll be inside,” she said, slamming the door and hurrying up the stairs.
He yelled, “Woman!”
Without turning, she waved before entering the house.
The place was packed. From the magic radiating in the air, most, if not all, were Arcaine of one kind or another.
A waitress, wearing only a few thin golden threads to cover her assets, walked by, holding a tray with drinks a multitude of sizes and colors. The costume told Cat exactly who was the host. Dragons certainly loved their gold, and their nudity.
Cat snagged a glass of red-colored liquid, then sniffed it before taking a drink of the spiced blood. A sharp tang on the back of her tongue told her it was spiced with a bit more than the usual herbs.
She shrugged. Her metabolism made it impossible to get high or drunk, but she’d still be cautious. With dragons, one never could be certain. As she moved through the crowd, searching for Malia, she nodded to those she knew. The array of costumes was immense. Half the people were so covered they were unrecognizable.
A shimmer of blue across the ballroom caught her eye. Jeremiah, now looking like a thirty-something beach bum, danced with Malia in a way that suggested they’d rather be home in bed.
She took another quick drink as Malia dipped her hands inside the front of his baggy harem pants.
“Is this a party or an orgy?” Eric asked from behind her.
She nearly choked, but replied smoothly, “To each their own.” She wasn’t a prude by any means, but she had the feeling that if someone didn’t step in soon, Malia and Jeremiah were going to forget they weren’t in the privacy of their own home. “I suppose we should separate them long enough to find out more about this guy we’re supposed to be looking for.”
He moved past her, parting the crowd. She hurried to keep pace, nearly jogging to compensate for his long strides.
As they reached the distracted couple, Malia swept a hooded gaze over them, then kissed Jeremiah before facing Cat. “Our host says the man usually appears costumed as a matador. He has not arrived yet.”
Eric searched the crowd, towering over most everyone to see well enough.
“I suggest the two of you act like you’re here for the party, before others grow suspicious,” Malia said softly, resuming her dancing with Jeremiah.
Eric glanced at Cat, then away.
“Come. We’ll be less conspicuous not dancing if we don’t stand on the dance floor,” she said, moving through the crush to a far wall.
She was stunned when he actually joined her.
“How often do you attend parties like these?” he finally asked.
“It’s the culture down here. We’re very social.”
A few people passed by. A girl dressed as a green woodland nymph squealed and rushed over. “Cat! I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Nina.”
The girl hugged her, then stared at Eric, her mouth dropping open. “Wow. Didn’t know you had a new toy to play with.”
Eric’s eyes flashed an angry red, his fangs extending enough to be easily seen.
“He’s here to help with the troubles,” Cat whispered.
Shadows darted through Nina’s dark eyes.
Cat asked sternly, “Who are you with?”
Nina smiled once more. “There’s a group of us. We’re following the rules you sent out. Never go anywhere alone, right?”
“Good,” she replied.
“Any word on Jacques?” The girl’s smile turned dreamy. Jacques had that effect on most women.
“Not yet, but it looks promising,” she lied.
Nina glanced around, then leaned closer and whispered, “I heard people from our coven are still disappearing. Is it true?”
“That’s why the guards are trying to get everyone out of the city.”
Nina pouted. “But there’s a bunch of Saint Patty’s Day parties. Balls and masques and all sorts of things. We can’t leave right now.”
Cat started to reprimand the girl, but sighed instead. She was finding this resistance all too often. It wasn’t like there weren’t parties and masques year round. The city was barely slowing down now that Mardi Gras was over.
She wanted to just command everyone to leave, but knew many of the younger vamps, like mortal teenagers, thought themselves invincible. They were also insatiable party animals.
No matter what she did, some would slip through the guards’ grasp and stay. The only way to protect them all was to figure out who was behind it all. Quickly.
“Just stick to the rules and be cautious.” Cat rubbed the girl’s arm, forcing herself to continue smiling.
All she could do was try to keep them safe, and that meant using all her resources, even the stodgy man glowering at her side.
As Nina skipped away to rejoin her group, Eric muttered, “Toy? Do you have many of those?”
She blinked up at him. “Not really, how about you?”
He stiffened. “I do not keep toys.”
Knowing there was nothing at the moment she could do, she pushed her worry away. It helped there was a slight fuzziness to her thoughts, deep in the back of her mind. Which had to be why she didn’t stop the words from tumbling out, “Ah, now. Toys can be so much fun,” she teased.
His gaze darkened, his scowl deepening. If looks could kill... “Like your Blake?” he demanded.
She snorted in laughter. “You take things so seriously. And no, Blake is nothing more than a friend.”
Across the room, someone screamed in surprise and happiness. She turned her attention to the room at large, searching for anything suspicious.
She could feel Eric continuing to glare at her, but ignored him. Toys, ha! As if she had a rotating door to her bedroom. With a glance at him from the corner of her eye, she entertained the idea of Eric as someone’s toy. She just couldn’t picture it. He seemed more like the dominant kind, controlling even in the bedroom.
Couples on the dance floor swayed to the music, the atmosphere one of a happy party. And many had a glassy-eyed look from imbibing on too much liquor laced with whatever dragon spice was being used tonight.
A half-hour later, their chatting had become mundane, but relaxed. She sipped at a second drink, this time making sure, as best she could, that it was a clean version. Still, she felt a slight giddiness in her blood. The music’s fast, heavy beat strummed over her skin.
Beside her, Eric stood sentry, perfectly still as if carved from rock. He swept his gaze from one side of the room to the other, then back.
On the dance floor, Malia straightened and shot Cat a glance, then stared toward a dark corner on the other side of the room.
A flash of a red cape. A man, tall and pale. He bent toward a young woman, whispering in her ear.
“He’s here,” she whispered, her heart beating faster.
Chapter Six
Eric followed her gaze across the room to where the tall, thin man stood, surrounded by giggling young women.
Cat tensed. “What are those girls doing?” She looked over the room. “Going through will be faster than trying to go around. Let’s dance.”
Grabbing his hand, she dragged him into the crowd, just as the music changed to a much slower tempo. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she maneuvered them in the direction of the matador, but there were so man
y people, it was at a snail’s pace.
He looked around, unable to disagree with her assessment, though he wanted to back away. He didn’t like being touched since his awakening. Yet, somehow, this seemed... not so awful.
They were forced chest to chest from the press of people.
Her body was tense as she stared at the Matador and those around him.
Eric felt her heart beat, a galloping pace full of worry. He finally settled on putting his hands on her bare shoulders. Her skin was smooth, silky beneath the roughness of his hands. Touching her, having her practically plastered against him, fired his blood and stirred something deep inside.
She must have felt his reaction, because she gasped, looking up with wide eyes.
Eric eased back. When she started to speak, he interrupted, refusing to discuss his body’s reaction to the female who fit so well in his arms. “Stop staring. The man will know something is wrong.”
Her green eyes mesmerized him, a mix of worry for those around the stranger, and determination to reach him. Get some answers.
But it was overshadowed by her own growing awareness of him.
“We’ll just act natural. Throw off any suspicion,” she whispered, her southern drawl a bit slurred and slightly husky.
His blood fired hotter. He stepped further away before she noticed the extremity of his body’s awakening. She smiled, and his gaze froze on her strawberry red lips. The yearning to taste them was overpowering.
Then she slid her hands up his sides and over his shoulders.
He silently sent a brief thanks the jacket he wore was thick enough that she couldn’t feel his scars. But he forgot all about them when she twined her fingers in the base of his hidden braid and tried to tug his head down.
“What are you doing, Woman?” he demanded.
Her smile widened, growing sultrier as she laughed. “Acting natural. Relax.”
When he didn’t budge, she rose on her tiptoes. Her breath caressed his chin just before she placed a soft kiss on his jaw.
“I want to know what you taste like,” she whispered.
Firestorm: Heart of a Vampire #5 Page 4