Pure Fluff: A Limited Edition Valentine's Day Bundle

by BLMorticia

  "Well, he did butter me up by saying I was his best guide. He got a call from someone to do a private tour."

  "Ah, okay. Well, if you get off early, come by Shelby's. We're heading to the late-night bistro after."

  Usually the tours ran about an hour and a half, so I might have a shot at joining Prez for that meal. Not like my social calendar was full anyway. "All right, I'll keep that in mind."

  Chapter Six

  Cayden

  When I returned from my little excursion into the Quarter, I had about five bags on each arm. I didn't intend to buy so much while I was out, but I couldn't help myself.

  While I was out shopping, I'd called Jonah to meet me in my suite so we could hang out together. He'd complained that I left him behind, but I ignored it.

  Although I wanted his company, I wouldn't be with him every waking hour.

  "Damn. Did you buy the whole damn town?" Jonah laughed, looking up from a magazine.

  "No." I leaned against the door to close it. "Help, please?"

  Jonah got up from the couch and grabbed a few of the packages. "So we're going on one of them vampire tours? Wait." Jonah stood back, looking at my outfit. "Dude. That's quite a disguise." He snickered.

  "Shut up! I didn't want anyone to notice me."

  "Oh, I'm pretty sure no one will recognize you in that. Nice work."

  "Thanks. Anyway, yeah, we're going on a tour tonight. We have to be at the shop at eight thirty. We can go on the cemetery tour the day after tomorrow. Tonight we're doing this, then closing a bar or restaurant to eat and drink until we're sloshed. You in?"

  "Sure. I'm up for anything." Jonah shifted and ambled back to the table, placing my bags down. "Are we taking Jaze with us?"

  I followed him into the living room. "I suppose we have to. I don't feel like wearing this again. I have to wash it and save it for when I hang out tomorrow. Once I take it off, I'll have room service come get it."

  "Yeah. I guess I can just wear some shades. No one knows or cares about me, so I don't have to be in disguise."

  I snorted. "That's the nice thing about not being a celebrity. Anonymity. Sometimes I miss those days."

  "Pssh. Who are you kidding?" Jonah asked as he fell back on the couch. "If you didn't love this life, you would've never gotten into music."

  "That might be true, but I'd kill to have a few days to be invisible." I slipped out of my sandals and removed the ratty wig from my head. After wearing that thing, I'd have to wash my hair because it itched something horrible. "I'm going to shower. Are you hungry? We could do room service really quick."

  "Nah. I ate something from the place downstairs. The food is fire. I'm glad it's open twenty-four hours. That might be my midnight snack."

  "All right. I'll get something, then, because I'm starving." I walked in the direction of my bedroom and removed the shirt, then snatched off the mustache. "Ow! Fuck."

  "You okay in there," Jonah yelled from the other room.

  "Just took of the pornstache. It hurt like hell."

  "I bet it did. Hey. You know you could've told somebody you were going out."

  "I could've." I popped the button on the jeans and slid them down my legs, "I didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea about us. Besides, I met someone I'm interested in."

  "What? Already? Where? And again, I'm your best friend who came down here to hang out with you, not to get left in this hotel."

  "Met him at the voodoo shop up the way. His name is Trent. He's a metal kid. I don't get his choice in music, but to each his own."

  "Does he know who you are? And don't think I didn't notice how you conveniently failed to respond to what I said."

  "Yep. I had to show him. He's gorgeous." I stepped out of the denim and toed them aside. It felt good to be in just my boxers, but with Jonah in the next room, I couldn't walk around naked.

  "Uh-huh. Anyway, I'm here to hang out with you. When you go out tomorrow, let me know."

  "We're hanging out tonight, but sure. If you want everybody to think you're my boy toy, then so be it." I chuckled.

  "Whatevs. You want me to order you some food while you're in the shower?"

  "Nah, I'm good. I want to take the time to look over the menu. I won't be long. Just wanna wash the grime and sweat off me."

  "Suit yourself," Jonah called back.

  After I closed the door, I slipped my boxers off and kicked them aside. Before looking at the menu, I tugged at my balls and ambled to the desk. Fiddling with the thermostat controls, the air came on. I exhaled deeply, enjoying that air hitting all the spots on my body. I took a seat and perused the restaurant's choices.

  Fried tomatoes and buffalo wings with blue cheese sounds good. I'll save my appetite for later, I mused to myself. I pushed the speaker button on the hotel phone to contact the restaurant.

  "Yes, sir."

  "Hi, I'd like to order room service."

  "Yes, what would you like?"

  "I'll have the wings, extra spicy with blue cheese, and an order of fried tomatoes. Please make sure nothing is cooked in peanut oil, okay? I'm allergic."

  "Yes, sir. We'll get that to you right away."

  "Thanks." I hung up and leaned back in my chair, thinking of the man called Trent at the shop. How would I be able to visit him without the disguise? The whole town knew I was here now, and I'd have to be careful.

  Maybe I should've picked another hotel out of the way, and not a place in the center of a tourist trap.

  Chapter Seven

  Cayden

  When I got out of the shower, my food had arrived. As Jonah said, the meal was delicious. The wings were hotter than I expected, and the tomatoes were fried perfectly. I'd definitely eat there a lot during my stay.

  Since our tour would start at eight thirty, I took a disco nap, got dressed, and we left the hotel with Jaze by eight. We avoided the throngs of fans crowding the entrance by leaving from the rear of the hotel and jumping into the limo I'd reserved for the duration of the trip. The place the tour director asked us to meet the guide at wasn't far, but I'd never make it on time with everyone looking for me.

  "How long is the tour?" Jonah asked.

  "About an hour and a half. Why? You have some other place to be?"

  Jonah harrumphed. "No. I was just wondering. It's kind of late to be doing a haunted tour, isn't it?"

  "Dude, that's the idea. They'll probably tell spooky stories and try scaring us with the weird tales. It's all fake, man. These people are washed-up actors. They bring the extra just to make you think all of this shit is real."

  "You don't believe any of it?"

  "Hells no!" I waved my hand. "New Orleans is all for the show. The haunted tales, the mystique. People come down here to be part of it and make money off the lore." I put my fingers up in quotes.

  "I dunno, man. Some of this stuff might be true." Jaze sounded worried.

  I looked up at him and laughed. "You're afraid too?"

  "Yeah, kind of. I've heard some stories about ghosts and stuff down here. I'm telling you, if I see something, I will be tossing you over my shoulder and running. No offense, Jonah, but you're on your own."

  "None taken," Jonah answered.

  "Really?" I snickered and leaned back in my seat. "Jaze, I can't believe you're actually falling for some of the hype."

  "Some of it might be true, Cayden. I won't leave you behind."

  Jonah and I chuckled.

  "Thanks for that, Jaze. Nice to know you got my back when it comes to the ghosts. I wouldn't be surprised if they've got some projectors or something set up just to put the fear into us. I love that shit. It's like a town of haunts. Vampires, ghosts, stories about murders and all kinds of exorcist shit. This is gonna be fun. The director said he's giving us his best guide. You know it's probably some old dude wearing strange threads, a top hat, might even have fangs," I laughed.

  "Uh-huh. We'll see." Jonah didn't sound convinced.

  I leaned back in the seat and looked out the window to the run-dow
n place we were told to meet the guide. The car stopped, and the driver's voice confirmed we were at the right place.

  "Let's go, gents. This should be a blast."

  Jaze got out and opened the door for me. I exited the car with Jonah close behind. Once Jaze closed the door and tapped the window for the driver to leave, he turned to eye me with an expression on his face that said it all.

  "Jaze, c'mon. It's gonna be okay." I patted his shoulder, and we approached the dingy place with a black door and one window.

  "I'm with Jaze. Is the driver far?" Jonah asked.

  "I told him to go back to the hotel. He'll come get us when we're ready. If you guys aren't gonna go in first, I will." I walked ahead and opened the creaky door that sounded like something out of a horror movie.

  "Enter!"

  When I heard the voice, I chuckled and kept walking. With every step, the floor squeaked. Only the chandelier above lit our path to what I assumed to be the front desk.

  "Hello there."

  I turned to my left, eyeing an old guy in gothic attire. As I thought, he had long black hair and black nails. He looked like the elder spokesman for heavy metal rejects.

  "Hey. Are you Lord Healy?"

  The man smiled, showing some fake-ass fangs. "I am. Lord Patrick Healy."

  Jonah and Jaze collectively gasped behind me. If they continued to act like a couple of scaredy-cats, I might be taking this walking tour solo.

  "Dudes, calm down," I scolded them, then turned back to Lord Healy. "Is it okay to call you Lord, or...."

  "Pat is fine. My guide, Prince T. Darkley, will be along in a minute. Thanks again for your generous payment for this solo tour. I assure you he will entertain you and your friends for the next two hours."

  "Awesome!" I clapped and rubbed my hands together. "If he's really good, I might give you guys a good tip."

  "Well, that's mighty kind of you," Patrick said with a toothy grin. "I've instructed him to take you to all the haunts within this three-mile radius. There are more, but we wouldn't want you out walking too late. We have to be careful because of the wayward children in the area. Some of the streets are too dark to see them lying on the sidewalks."

  "I've heard about that. Any idea why there's so many homeless people down here? I know it's an issue everywhere, but driving in, we noticed a lot of them."

  "Yes. There aren't many places for the waywards or drifters to go, so they live on the streets."

  "As long as we don't get mugged along the way, we'll be fine."

  "Right. I always say worry more about the waywards than the ghosts or vampires. The drifters might pick your pocket, but the ghosts only want to say hi."

  "Ghosts? Are we going to see real ones?" Jonah asked.

  "Of course they're real, my good friend. Prince Darkley will tell you more," Patrick said in a creepy tone.

  I only chuckled while Jonah and Jaze discussed escape routes behind me. Just as I was about to tell them to cool it again, another set of footsteps came closer.

  "Hiya... gents."

  That voice.

  I glanced to my left, noticing Trent walk up, dressed in black leather from head to toe. He wore a fedora over those scraggly blondish-brown locks that cascaded over his shoulders. The shirt looked like the costume from some second-rate vampire movie.

  Trent, I mouthed to myself.

  Trent bowed his head slightly, tipping his cap. "Are these guys ready to go, Healy?"

  "They are. I assume you know our special guest here. Cayden Wythe, his friend Jonah, and bodyguard, Jaze."

  Trent walked up and shook my hand firmly.

  The familiar sensation traveled from my fingers on down to my groin. "Good to see you again, man."

  "Likewise," he said, grinning.

  "You two know one another," Patrick said, sounding surprised.

  "I met him at the voodoo shop today. Cover blown," I said with a laugh.

  "Yeah." Trent ambled past me to shake hands with Jonah and Jaze. "No worries, though. I take on a different persona for the tour. If you're ready to take this wild ride with me, we'll have fun." He added a Southern twang to the end of his sentence, and I creamed in my pants. Still friendly like earlier, but the change in tone was a nice touch, making my balls tingle.

  "Oh, I'm ready." I couldn't help my excitement. This was an opportunity to be entertained by the cockamamie stories he'd probably learned from Lord Healy and get him into my bed. Ways to con someone was more like it, but it was okay. I'd go along with the stint for the sake of shits and giggles.

  "Ooh, it's like that, huh?" Jonah said behind me.

  Hearing Jonah's snide tone, I wanted to kick him, but I refrained. "Whenever you're ready to show us the ghosts and ghouls, we're ready, Prince T. Or should we call you Darkley?"

  Trent snorted. "Trent will be fine since you're already familiar with my name."

  "Cool. Let's get going before these two chicken out."

  Lord Healy laughed, as did Trent. Jaze and Jonah didn't, which made it even funnier.

  "All right, let's ride." Trent spun around, adding that twang again, and I was about ready to jump his bones right then and there.

  "Right behind you, stud." Jonah slapped me on the back, following me out of the rickety old place.

  Lord Healy waved goodbye to us, saying something about not being afraid of the spirits playing games.

  "That dude is creepy as fuck," Jaze said on the way out.

  Trent laughed and turned to us. I could tell from the way the moon shone on his eyes he was wearing contacts, changing them to a more freakish darker blue. Honestly, he didn't need them because his baby blues were perfect as is. All part of the costume, I supposed.

  "Lord Healy is a friend, and yeah, he is a little strange, but he's been good to waywards like me. Now. Tell me, do y'all believe in ghosts?"

  "Yeah!" Jonah and Jaze answered in unison.

  "Fuck no," I answered with authority. "I know it's all part of the schtick, Trent, so I'll humor you. You asked the question, though."

  "Mhmm. You don't believe, huh? Well, you should. This is the place full of stories that haven't been forgotten. In fact, a young lady by the name of Marjorie Evans had her throat slit on this very street, and her killer was never found. Her spirit hasn't rested for almost fifty years, and plenty of people claim to have seen her ghost roaming around nine at night."

  "What? Oh hell...." Jaze sounded scared, and we hadn't started yet.

  "Is that so? Have you seen her?" I asked. I dropped my gaze down to his crotch.

  Trent reached out for me, putting his index finger under my chin to lift it. "Pay attention to the tour, my man. You can flirt later."

  "I can? Good," I said with a smirk. At least I knew he was mildly interested in me.

  "Anyway, to answer your question, yes. I've seen her plenty of times, especially during this tour. Ask anyone who's taken it, and they'll validate the story."

  "Really...." I dropped my gaze again, but only to look at my feet. I'd play along with these shenanigans for tonight and the next tour we took, but nothing more.

  This shit could be entertaining, and even more so with hottie Prince Trent showing us the so-called haunts.

  Perhaps this trip would be well worth the headache of being followed after all.

  Trent

  Noticing my special tour guest, my heart skipped a beat. He was tossing out the flirts like they were going out of style. I couldn't help but grin at them all. Obviously, Cayden was a pro at this sort of thing.

  "Yeah," I answered him. "If we stick around, she just might show herself." Miss Evans made regular appearances on this very block. She made a habit of touching my hair while I biked to my apartment.

  Cayden snorted. "All right. I'm ready to see her, then."

  "If we get started, she'll follow. Anyway, her story is simple. She was walking home from a night out at the local bar. She'd been drinking a little bit more than usual and tripped over her own feet. Visitors say she's mentioned knowing her murd
erer by name, but because there were no witnesses, police haven't found the person responsible. Now. If you look about ten yards down, you'll notice the house where Marjorie Evans lived, which just so happens to be where I stay. The Handonon House used to be a lodge for weary soldiers in the late seventeen hundreds. Many of them were killed there while they slept. Let's go on up and learn about a few of them, shall we? Make sure you stay in the street. The police have closed this off, so we won't be bothered, but the drifters may still be lurking."

  All three of them followed me on the cobblestone streets, passing by colorful Creole homes and small apartment buildings. The only lights illuminating our walk were the classic candle lamps. Being in the street, we would most likely avoid anybody trying to step in our path.

  "Sooo... where is she? You said around nine?"

  Just as Cayden asked that, a gentle breeze whooshed by. I looked up at a mass of smoke rising over our heads.

  "There she is. She's a little early. Maybe she's a fan of your music, Cayden." I turned to watch the three of them ogling the night sky.

  "Holy fuck." The one called Jaze sounded shocked. "Cayden, let's go!"

  Cayden chuckled. "C'mon, Jaze, it's not real. Where are the damn projectors and smoke machines?"

  "There ain't no projectors, Cayden. We don't lie about the spirits here. They're looming because their souls aren't at rest. Marjorie's is one of the many. You said you didn't believe, so she decided to make an appearance."

  "Wow," Jonah exclaimed.

  "Yep. Let's move on before she calls up her friends."

  "Her friends?" Cayden asked, snickering. "There's others, huh?"

  "Oh yeah. Because the Spaniards took over back in the day, not knowing how to properly bury people, there are plenty of ghosts roaming the Big Easy. We're standing on what used to be the dump for dead bodies. Lots of them lost during the small battles over land in the seventeenth and eighteenth century. Some of these men were never identified, and because of that, plenty of families died off early. The infant mortality rate was sky-high because of disease. Women having miscarriages, stillbirths. Plenty of those people never had the opportunity to live past thirty."