Humans didn’t ever trip his inner alarms or sensors. They weren’t something he felt the need to be on high alert for. There was no denying the power wafting through the air around him. It ran over his body, wrapping around it, arousing him.
Yeah, that sure the fuck isn’t Chilton.
His gaze darted up to the balconies and galleries, perched above the street, all nods to the French and Spanish architecture of the area. They were filled with people. Some were sitting and enjoying libations, others were standing and shouting down at those on the street below. None were the source of the power though. He’d have sensed it if they were.
The power drifted away as quickly as it had come.
What the hell am I doing on this wild-goose chase?
He was walking aimlessly around a huge city, hoping to what, bump into the damn enemy? He’d had better ideas. Much better. But he’d been desperate to put distance between himself and his master. He’d latched on to the assignment, jumping at the chance to hunt and kill Chilton, but he didn’t know where the vampire was in the city, or what he was up to. Pierre had had little information to go off of regarding finding Chilton or the secret weapon Gérard was rumored to possess. Pierre didn’t even know why they were in the city. Yet, he expected Thor to be able to hunt down and eliminate the threat.
“Easy as fucking pie,” said Thor, partially under his breath.
He came to another stop and tapped into his sensitive hearing, doing his best to focus his attention and filter out the overwhelming amount of information coming at him. The Quarter was the hub of the city. If Chilton was in town and up to no good, chances were, someone here would know about it. Thor just had to figure out who that someone might be.
Thor filtered out everything around him that wasn’t relevant to his mission. It took a few seconds, but it worked.
“Did you hear they found a body last night, just outside of the Quarter?” asked a woman, her voice thick with a Louisiana drawl.
“That is the fourth one in a week,” said another woman, sounding like she was from the north.
Thor visually scanned the direction from which he’d zeroed in on the voices. He spotted two women standing just outside of a bar. Each was smoking cigarettes and had on matching T-shirts with the bar’s name on them. Both were fake blondes and had equally fake breasts. They weren’t bad-looking, yet he found they didn’t appeal to him sexually. He wasn’t sure what his type was, but they weren’t it.
The taller of the two leaned in close, keeping her voice low. “Something is hunting around here at night.”
“Non-human?” asked the other, surprising Thor. They knew of supernaturals? He could smell the humanity rolling off them.
“My friend, the cop, said it looked like the body was eaten by a pack of wolves or something.” The woman flicked her cigarette onto the ground and then stepped on it, her heeled foot snuffing it out. “Don’t walk home or anything. Get a ride from one of the bouncers or the bartenders, okay?”
“Yeah,” said the other woman. “Should we spread the word?”
“Yes, but keep it to those we trust. We don’t want the tourists running off,” said the taller one. “As of right now, it’s not hunting any of them.”
The shorter of the two nodded and then walked into the crowd on the street. Thor followed, shadowing her from a distance as she entered another bar and then came out, heading to a restaurant. She exited there and soon found a group of men standing together.
“Guys, there was another attack last night,” she said.
The oldest of the men sighed. “Anyone we know?”
“I don’t know who it was yet. But it was bad. I’m gonna go tell the others. Can you spread the word about it on the down low?” she asked.
“Of course, Cherry,” he said. “Do you want one of us to walk you home tonight?”
She smiled and then hugged him. “Thank you. But I’ll be fine.”
The men didn’t look as if they agreed with her statement, but she continued onward.
Thor soaked in what he’d learned. Something was hunting locals and odds were, it was tied to why he was in the city. It was no secret that Gérard had been in talks with Krauss and The Corporation. Both had hard-ons for genetic engineering and messing with DNA. Thor should have held Krauss in higher regard than he did, as the man had given him to Pierre and saved his life, but he’d never been able to shake the feeling that Krauss wasn’t trustworthy and should be destroyed.
He’s a pimple on a dog’s ass.
While in Seattle, Thor had seen firsthand the results of the genetic testing going sideways. He’d stood face to face with true monsters in every sense of the word. They weren’t to be toyed with. They were feral.
Much like most of Pierre’s attempts at creating the perfect pets—the perfect hybrids. Even Thor’s mind was beginning to slip. Soon, another would have to come along and hunt him, putting him out of his misery.
Chapter Nine
Emi stood from her table and walked over to Hector, who was lost in his art, as was often the case. She envied the way he could shut off everything around him and simply paint. That wasn’t a skill set she had, though it was one she’d always longed for. The idea of having a hobby—something other than reading fortunes, cleansing houses, and sitting and chatting it up with dead people—was a foreign concept to her. Those things had been her life. All she’d ever known. And her life didn’t exactly leave a lot of wiggle room or spare time. If it did, she wasn’t even sure what she’d do with it. Cook, maybe. She’d always loved the few times she and her uncle had lived in places with a kitchen.
Missing her uncle, she touched her chest lightly while she got lost in watching Hector paint. It was somewhat therapeutic the way his hand moved with each brush stroke.
As night wore on, the crowds around them began to change as well. They became rowdier. Such was always the case on the Quarter. She didn’t mind it. In fact, it often amused her the way some people carried on.
She’d done several readings, making a nice chunk of money that she’d store away in her safe spot. Hoarding cash was engrained in her. If she had to run, it would get her somewhere safe and afford her the opportunity to start anew. The very idea of leaving those who had become family to her in New Orleans caused her breath to hitch.
Hector glanced at her and then motioned to his artwork. “What do you think?”
“I love it! It won’t last long before someone buys it.” It was true. Hector was a tourist favorite. He’d start the process of packing up soon enough because of how dark it was. “What would you like to eat tonight?”
“Hot dogs?” he asked, looking hopeful. He had a thing for the specialty hot dogs that were sold just across the Quarter at a small restaurant. She didn’t mind them either. They were some of her favorite foods.
“Sounds good.”
He began to clean his brush. “I’ll go get them.”
“No. Your muse is on fire tonight. That is some of your best work yet. I’ll go,” she offered. “You finish up. Besides, you worked longer than normal tonight and your takedown process will keep you busy until I get back.”
He gave her a hard look. “Fine, but I’m buying.”
She went to him and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
“Where’s Taylor? He typically comes by wanting our food order by now,” Hector said. “And are we checking in on Cherry to see if she wants something to eat too?”
Putting her tarot cards in her bag, Emi glanced around, wanting to be sure no one overheard before she told Hector where Taylor was. Austin had a number of people in the Quarter who were loyal to him. Eyes and ears all over the place. It was sad what some people would do for the promise of drugs. And Austin was never in short supply of them. He made a good amount of money running scams on tourists and selling drugs. He wasn’t the type of guy people tangled with on purpose. She didn’t need or want issues with Austin’s crew tonight. “Taylor left for Colorado today. He wants to be close to his sister when she
has her baby, and I’m pretty sure he wants to mend fences with his past.”
Hector looked impressed. “You finally managed to talk him away from that group of miscreants. Good.”
She laughed, already knowing Hector’s low opinion of the friends Taylor had associated with before coming to live with her. Hector was part of a group of small-business owners who were trying to get Austin and his crew off the streets and out of the city. For a while, others like Austin had been driven out, but new ones had cropped up, and they were far worse than the ones before. “I’m dreading them realizing he’s left the city.”
Hector’s gaze hardened. “If those punks come near you, I’ll…”
She snickered. “You’ll what? Throw paint thinner at them?”
Hector grinned from ear to ear. “Hey, paintbrushes could be used as a weapon. You’d be shocked at how kick-ass I can be when called for.”
“My hero,” she said, touching her chest in an old-movie, Southern-belle kind of way and then making a move to leave to get their food. “I’ll stop by and see if Cherry wants some too.”
“Emi,” he said sternly.
She faced him, and he held out money, waving it around. “I told you I was buying. Put Cherry’s on there too.”
She took the cash from him. “Fine. You want your usual?”
“Yes, darling, and thank you,” he said, kissing her forehead gently. “Hurry back, or I’ll think Austin and his crew found you. You do not want to know the hell I’d unleash on him if he hurts you.”
She snorted. “I’m sure he’s terrified.”
Hector winked.
She smiled and headed in the direction of the hot dog place. It was a bit of a walk because it was on the opposite side of the Quarter, but she didn’t mind. She walked nearly everywhere she went, and used streetcars or RTA buses when the distance was too far to walk. New Orleans provided everything she needed to live a simple life and she’d had a great love for the city since her arrival. It was filled to the brim with spirits, most of whom were good and loved the city as much as her. Some were not so nice. She ignored them. No matter what, it had become her home. A part of her.
It was the longest she’d ever spent in one area, and she hoped to be able to remain for at least a while longer. She couldn’t imagine living anywhere else and leaving the tribe of friends she’d created in the area. They were the closest thing to a family she had.
She strolled in the direction of Bourbon Street to seek out her friend Cherry and get her food order. Cherry had a soft spot for hot dogs as well. Emi didn’t mind the extra walk.
As she stepped out onto Bourbon Street to head down to the bar Cherry worked at, the urge to look to her right came over her. She did—and froze.
There was a man standing there, his gaze upward as if he was scanning the rooftops. His long blond hair was pulled back from his face, and he wore black from head to toe, from his form-fitting T-shirt, to his painted-on jeans, to the boots that screamed badass. His outfit showed off every ripple of his chiseled body.
Her mouth went dry as she found herself standing in the street, soaking in the sight of the man. He wasn’t even facing her and she knew he was sheer perfection.
Men simply didn’t come built that way in real life, did they? She had to be imagining him.
An even more sobering thought occurred to her—was he dead?
A few times in her life, she’d been unable to easily discern the difference between the living and the dead. Some dead were simply so unique that they came across to her as living, yet something always felt slightly off with them.
As was the case with the man.
He felt alive, yet not.
It was an odd pairing, and it intrigued her. Not to mention he was the hottest guy she’d ever seen, and it wasn’t as if she’d spent her life running into slackers. But none of the men before could hold a candle to the sexy hunk of man meat that was still watching the skies like he expected them to open at any moment.
As she watched him, she noticed spirits on the street being drawn to him as well. Often it was her they sought, but not now. They were drawn to the man, just as she was.
Strange.
She couldn’t tear her gaze from him. For a split second, she realized she was watching him as if he were soft-core porn. As guilty as she should have felt over objectifying the man, she found she didn’t want to stop. Truth be told, she wanted to get him naked and objectify him some more.
Right and wrong didn’t even come into play.
Emi wanted to be closer to him. Wanted to see if he smelled as yummy as he looked. That was so out of character for her that it should have jarred her back to her senses. It didn’t.
He moved a few paces, and she remained there, watching him, mesmerized by his sheer presence. The man’s movements reminded her of a cat—smooth and fluid. He held himself in a way that said he wasn’t to be messed with. That he could hold his own should the need call for it. And she still wasn’t able to figure out why it was she sensed both life and death on him. It was far more than the feeling she got around someone who’d had a life-and-death experience. More than the vibe she pulled from someone who had crossed over temporarily into death, only to live another day. This was more. Darker, yet scarily so.
He turned slightly. She’d been right. Sheer perfection. He was quite possibly the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on. His features looked to be carved from stone, the angles of his face the perfect ratio. His blue gaze was crisp and captivating. There was something about the man that screamed Nordic god.
Her hormones did a happy dance, rejoicing in simply being on the same street as the hunk. She wasn’t sure they could handle anything more. While she’d never before considered herself the type of woman who caved and gave in to carnal urges, she was fast beginning to see why so many women did. With a guy as sexy as the blond, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold out.
He stopped looking upward and began to scan the area surrounding him as if he sensed a threat. Whatever was stupid enough to try to harm him wouldn’t last long. Emi could almost feel the alpha in the man as it pulsed from him. While Hector was all talk, this man would be all show. She was sure of it.
His gaze narrowed partially on a group of men who were walking in his direction. The men took one look at the blond, and they all walked wide around him, giving him plenty of space.
They felt it too.
The danger that rolled off the man.
That being said, she wasn’t afraid of him. If anything, she felt drawn to him. Like she needed to walk in his direction, to be closer to him. To simply be in his radius even. As if he were the sun and she a planet needing to orbit it. Never before had she had a compulsion such as this. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it. Curious for one, but for another, slightly scared of the intense physical reaction she had to the man. What did it mean?
She made a point to avoid relationships, or even casual sex. The very few times in her past that she’d tried to be sexually intimate with someone had ended poorly. Her ability to read their pasts, presents, and futures always got in the way. What was worse was when they had dead people attached to them. Having a private moment to get it on with a spirit watching her wasn’t something she found alluring.
The more she stared at the blond guy, the more she realized she didn’t care if a stadium full of the departed wanted to watch. Emi wanted him. Period. Never before had she felt anything close to what she was feeling now. She wanted to run her fingers over the hard planes of his body to see if he was as hard as he looked.
I bet he feels better, she thought, absently running her tongue out and over her lower lip. And I bet he’s really friggin’ hard.
Melting into a puddle of hormones felt as if it were a real possibility. One she’d never considered a threat before, but as the temperature around her seemed to rise and her lady parts rejoiced at the sight of the hunk, she wasn’t so sure anymore.
The urge to seek out Cherry hit her. Cherry was somethin
g of an expert when it came to men. Emi was anything but, and the hunk before her looked like he’d more than know what he was doing in the bedroom. Emi felt like she needed a crash course in how to please and handle a sex god.
She gulped at the idea of sleeping with the man. If the very idea of it was causing her body to react in such a way, would she survive the real thing?
Nope.
Someone bumped into her, ripping her from thoughts of throwing herself at the blond guy and begging him to do her hard. Instead, the urge was replaced with an onslaught of images and feelings. She’d worked hard to learn to control her gifts and avoid information overload from touching another. Her focus had been so swept up with the man that she’d let her mystical defenses down, opening herself to a barrage of emotions and visions.
She swayed, feeling instantly sick to her stomach. The woman who had run into her reached out and touched Emi’s arm, using Emi to partially steady herself. The act made more information collide with Emi, slamming into and through her to the point it was painful.
Her uncle’s teachings came back to her quickly and she did as she’d been taught when she was little and it was all new. She began to hum slightly, focusing on the song in her head, not the images and feelings of another. It helped, just as it had long ago.
“S-s-orry,” the woman slurred, smelling heavily of booze.
Emi blinked several times and drew upon her hard-earned skills to block impressions from others. Once the images in her head subsided, she pressed an artificial smile to her face. “It’s okay.”
The woman continued onward. The man she was with looped his arm through hers, keeping her close and upright. Something many seemed to struggle with in the Quarter after hours.
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