Hunger (Witches of the Big Easy Book 2)

by Ts McKinney

  His feet hit the floor. “Well, that’s rude. Why bring me here, then? Keep me prisoner?”

  Those were legitimate questions if he wasn’t aware of his supernatural abilities…which I doubted. “Because I can,” I snapped.

  “Wow, mature answer, Poppet. Want me to take them off?”

  There wasn’t much in the world that I wanted more than that. “Absolutely not,” I lied. “I’m not interested in dark creatures. I’m better than you and yours.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Really? You think you’re better than me? Righteous, dude. You’re the kidnapper here. Not me. You’re the one breaking the law. You’re the one who’s unable to bring a guy to your apartment without using brute force. I question whether that genuinely makes you better than me or mine.”

  “Whatever. Keep the sweats. I couldn’t care less,” I muttered, unable to argue with him when he appeared to have legitimate arguments.

  “So, now that you have me at your mercy, what do you plan on doing with me?” He asked as he switched from channel to channel. He settled on Netflix and started watching The Originals—nice choice considering his vampire scent. “Do you watch this? Elijah absolutely gives me the chills.” He cut his eyes in my direction. “He kind of reminds me of you—all powerful, in charge, and cool.”

  The Originals was one of my favorite series, but I refused to admit it to him.

  “Stop playing with my television,” I snapped as I jerked the remote from his hands. When our hands touched, warm waves of desire raced through my veins. It felt like electricity flowed between us whenever we came in physical contact with each other.

  He huffed. “Okay, what do you want me to do? If you’re going to keep me trapped in your uppity penthouse digs, you’re going to have to do something to keep me entertained. I’m bored. Bored me isn’t a drop of fun, trust me.”

  I suspected everything about him was fun if one liked to dabble in the dark arts.

  “What do you want to do?” I asked. As soon as the words left my lips, I regretted them. What did I care if he felt entertained or bored stiff?

  “I guess it’s safe to assume that you won’t allow me to leave this room. Is it true that I’m your prisoner?”

  “Prisoner sounds a bit harsh. Let’s leave it with you being my guest.”

  “Bullshit, Poppet. That’s utter bullshit, but I’m going to let it slide. Let’s negotiate—how’s that?”

  I couldn’t lie—he had me interested in what he had in mind. “I’m not certain you have a lot of room for negotiation, Darkness. You’re my prisoner. I call all the shots and possess all the power.”

  “Okay, okay,” he said while holding his hands up in surrender. “How about some New Orleans delicacies? Your choice, although the poor guy cutting his palm earlier this morning was pretty gross, so let’s see what else you have to offer me.”

  “I’m not offering you anything, Darkness, nor am I allowing you to leave the apartment, so stop playing games with me. You’ll stay here until I figure out your role in the murders, and then you’ll be handled accordingly.”

  “Okay, let’s try this another way,” he said. “Other than leaving this apartment, what could we do? While it is incredibly entertaining to sit and look at you because, dayum, you are hot, I still need something more to entertain me.” He winked at me. “Unless, of course, you’d like to consider letting me do more than just look, Poppet.”

  “Stop calling me that,” I growled. “You really need to be taking your situation more seriously. If I find that you used your dolls to kill our people, then I’ll have no choice but to destroy you. Surely you realize this?”

  He shrugged. “I realize you’re a tad crazy, but the cute ones always are. I bet they’re also the best in bed.” He pulled his legs in to sit cross-legged on my sofa, somehow making him look even more delectable, and said, “But, for the sake of your craziness, let’s play along with this whole using poppets to murder people theory you have rolling around in your crazy town head, I’m completely innocent, so I have absolutely nothing to worry about. End of story.”

  “End of story?”

  “Well, yeah, unless you want to discuss that whole nickname thing. If you want to address that, I’ll leave it with you stop calling me Darkness, and I’ll stop calling you Poppet.” He grinned. “I kind of like it, though.”

  “Of course, you do,” I answered since he was undoubtedly the most annoying creature walking the Earth. “I couldn’t care less what you call me—couldn’t care less if you talk to me at all, actually.” Okay, that was a huge lie. Like a lovesick fool, I’d found myself already getting addicted to the soft, melodious sound of his voice. It had been, what, maybe twenty-four hours since he entered my world. Yeah, falling for him made absolute perfect sense. Nic would love this shit.

  Trying to focus on the problem at hand instead of what I wanted in my hands, I said, “How about this? Why don’t we pass the time with you telling me how the poppets you make are so powerful, why you’re fucking a known warlock, and why your scent holds a hint of a vampire? That would make my job much easier—just admit to everything to save me the work.”

  He shrugged. “Google it.”

  Damn, but he made me run hot and cold at the same fucking time. Knowing that I had work to do in the dark alleys to try and find out what the fuck was going on with the murders, I gave up wasting my time with Darkness. I motioned for him to follow me, “Come on. Let’s go.”

  I walked down the hall toward the bedroom and heard his footsteps fall in behind me within seconds. He’d nearly tripped in his haste to get off the couch and catch up to me. Note to self—he doesn’t possess the usual gracefulness of a vampire.

  “Hey, uh, I was just kidding about the whole fucking thing. I mean, you are really hot, no doubt about that, but I don’t know you…and what I do know leads me down the yellow-brick-road of craziness, I think.” He kept talking as he followed me into the bedroom. “Would I like it to eventually lead to you fucking me into the mattress? Sure, I think so. I’m pretty sure so. Just…not yet.”

  “Aren’t you even going to fake being ashamed for considering this act of unfaithfulness to your fiancé?” I asked.

  His brow scrunched up in confusion and then straightened again. “Oh, yeah, Dominic. I’d forgotten about him. That’s weird, right?” He plopped down on my bed like he owned it. “I haven’t forgotten-forgotten him, but I haven’t thought about him either. It was like the further away from him that you got me yesterday, the smaller the space there was for him inside my head. Strange. Maybe we’re both cray-cray?”

  Again, what he described sounded like some sort of enchantment had been placed on him.

  While he contemplated his relationship status, I eased out of the room and added a double protection ward to the bedroom and adjoining bath. Not only would others not be able to locate him, he wouldn’t be able to leave the area. I would make sure I was back around lunch so he could grab something to eat.

  “Sorry, Darkness. I have errands to run—a murderer to catch. I’ve enchanted this room so that you can’t leave but there’s ample room for you to move around, a big screen television for your beloved Netflix all day, and a bathroom. I’ll be back early afternoon to bring you something to eat and drink. Do not harm my personal belongings! You’ll regret it if you do.” I stepped back and said, “Prohibeo effugium.”

  His eyes widened. “What? You’re just going to lock me in here by myself? Most of the day? What if the building catches on fire and I’m trapped? What if housekeeping shows up and finds me locked in your bedroom? What language did you just speak?” He moved closer to the door. “Even better—what if I start craving blood? You know, like vampires do.” He’d reached the open doorway by the time he’d whipped out the vampire comment. I didn’t flinch. My wards would keep him locked in place.

  He started laughing. “Dude, you should see your face right now! You totally believed the blood thing, didn’t you? I’m fucking teasing with you, Poppet. Vampires don�
�t exist, and I sure the hell don’t crave blood.” He leaned against the wall next to the door frame—close to the magical boundary of his entrapment—and said, “I don’t like being by myself, though. How long will you be gone?”

  He was serious as shit. This hottie was going to end up driving me bonkers. I chuckled, thinking I might end up as crazy as he tells me I am if I keep him with me for any length of time.

  To try and get him riled up, I answered, “I’ll be gone as long as it takes.”

  When he mimicked what I’d said in what I guessed was a voice supposed to sound like me, I had to turn away so he wouldn’t see me smile. “Behave,” I said as I started down the hall.

  “Hey, Einstein! You forgot to shut the door and lock me in here!”

  I kept walking. “Hey, Einstein! Try to leave the room!”

  I heard him hit the floor and could imagine how he’d bounced off the invisible barrier and landed on his very bubbly ass.

  “How the fuck?” I heard him mutter as I left my apartment. How in the hell was going to stay focused on catching a murderer when all I wanted to do was stay and spar with Marchand was beyond me.

  *****

  Marchand

  My eyes tracked the slow tick-tock of Gabriel’s clock for about the hundredth time since he’d left me. The day had been boring, and I’d missed him the second he’d walked out the door. Did I know why—no, not a fucking clue. All I did know was that I didn’t have to understand my feelings or the situation, which was a fucking good thing since nothing made any sense at all, to know that I was right where I wanted to be. Gabriel was an odd duck, that much was for certain. A witch? For fuck’s sake, he wasn’t even a woman, how could he be a witch? Weren’t witches supposed to be women? They were on television and television facts stated that women were witches and men were warlocks.

  Clearly, Gabriel didn’t get to watch enough television.

  The whole magic thing—the way he could cuff my hands with invisible cuffs or barricade me in a room without even closing the door—that was a biggie. The dude totally belonged in Vegas doing magic acts.

  Turning my head sideways to gaze at the bedroom door longingly like a lovesick fool, I caught a whiff of his scent on the pillow. Damn, he smelled delicious! It was a nice earthy smell with a hint of some cologne. Something outrageously expensive, no doubt.

  The nightstand next to me held a phone. I could have called for help at any point during the day—assuming he hadn’t magically caused it to stop working. I hadn’t even considered it, though. I didn’t want to leave, which made zero sense. I didn’t want Dominic to get me, which made a lot of sense. I did have a serious problem, though. I was terrified that Dom would do something to hurt Gabriel if he found out where I was.

  Was it crazy that I was more concerned for my captor than my fiancé? Maybe just a tad.

  I heard a door open and close, causing me to jump to my feet in excitement. Like a fool, I fluffed my stupid-colored hair and hoped it didn’t end up standing out in every direction except the right one. Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I had to admit I wasn’t too bad looking if you could get past the hair and eyes. Obviously, most people couldn’t or I wouldn’t have been with Dom. Shit, that was an evil thought. The rest of my body was fit as a fiddle, and I never once had to work out and ate everything I wanted. Come to think of it, I was starving. It had been a good five hours since he’d fed me.

  “Come on, Darkness!” he called from the living room. “The barriers are down now.”

  “Oh, okay. Sure. The fucking barriers are down,” I muttered as I walked toward the bedroom door. I’d already been knocked on my ass several times while I’d tried to figure out what it was that kept me trapped in the room but it wasn’t anything that I could see with my eyes. Cautiously, I put my hand against the empty space but this time, instead of blocking me, I was able to walk straight through. Hell, maybe he was a witch…wait…warlock. I’d ask him.

  Gabriel was outside on the balcony, emptying bags stuffed with what looked to be enough food to feed an army. My stomach growled.

  This situation couldn’t get any more weird. He was honestly holding me captive and I honestly didn’t care. He was setting the table like we were about to have a lunch date. It all felt perfect. Every bit of it—fucking perfect.

  I stood at the French doors and said, “Am I allowed to come outside?”

  He cocked a brow in my direction. “I’m putting the food out here, aren’t I?” He motioned with his hand for me to join him. “I’ve extended your barriers so we could enjoy some fresh air. I know it was probably torture to be trapped in the bedroom all morning.”

  It hadn’t been torturous at all. Again…weird.

  When I hesitated, he added, “My magic also keeps anyone from being able to scry for you. Dom won’t be able to find you.” He said it like I might consider that to be a bad thing, but he was so wrong about that one.

  “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got my favorites.” He shrugged. “I’m mean that way.”

  I sat down in the chair he indicated, my eyes glued to the food. While Dom always seemed to have money when he wanted something, we never had enough for eating out and trying new foods. My mouth was literally watering.

  “We have crawfish, gumbo, shrimp po-boys, and muffulettas. For dessert, I got us pralines and beignets.”

  His eyes met mine and I swore he blushed, like he was embarrassed for treating me to something so generous. I smiled. “Thank you, Poppet. It all looks delicious.” I reached for the platter where he’d put the desserts. “But I want my sweets first.” To say I had a sweet tooth might be an understatement. I loved me some sweets.

  He handed me a bottle of water. “It’s mostly for me, but you can eat what you want,” he growled.

  Yeah, he knew it was weird, too. Neither one of us seemed to be able to stop it, though. I reached for the bottle of water as I shoved a beignet in my mouth. Yep, the entire thing. He gaped at me.

  “That’s disgusting.” His eyes darkened. “You…you have powdered sugar all over your lips.”

  Ahhh, so that was the problem—Fighting Attraction for Your Captive 101.

  I was going to make it even harder on him if I could, just because I enjoyed teasing him. Oh, and I kind of wanted him to bend me over the table, yank down my borrowed sweats, and fuck me until I passed out from satisfaction and exhaustion. I blinked innocently at him. “Help me with it?”

  His mouth opened. Shut. Opened.

  Then he tossed a cloth napkin across the table at me.

  Shit.

  “Did you behave today?” he asked as he scooped out a bowl of gumbo for himself and me.

  I licked my fingers and made sure that he watched every second of it. “You know I did. Surely you watched me in your crystal ball or something.”

  He barked out a laugh. “No, actually it was modern day security cameras. You were very well behaved. I have no idea what to think about you.” The bowl of gumbo was placed in front of me. “Eat that before it gets cold.”

  Not needing to be told twice, I dug into the bowl with the same gusto as I had with the beignet. I looked up to see him watching me closely, scowling like I’d stolen his kitten. “What? Do I need to hold the spoon with my pinky sticking out or something?”

  “No. I’ve just never watched a vampire eat real food. Well, except for this morning, of course. It seems…surreal.”

  “Not a vampire,” I snapped as I kept eating. The gumbo was delicious, and I savored each and every flavor that rolled across my tongue. “Hey, are you a witch or a warlock? I thought women were witches and men were warlocks.”

  He laughed. “Did you now? And why, on earth, would you think that, Darkness?”

  I shrugged, reaching for one of the shrimp po-boys. “Because that’s how it is on television.”

  “Slow down,” he admonished. “You’re going to make yourself sick. I’m not going to take the food away from you.”

  “I know. I’m not used to g
etting food like this. I’m going to enjoy my…captivity as best I can. Warlock or witch?”

  “Are you honestly going to sit there and pretend that you know nothing about the supernatural world? Honestly?”

  He was frowning at me. I liked his face much better when it was forming a smirk or smile—much sexier.

  “Honestly,” I answered. “I mean I could try the whole I want to drink your blood line, but I kind of used a version of that this morning, and I’m afraid it’s going to get old. So, witch or warlock?”

  “I’m a witch and a Législateur. Yes, there are male witches. That comment about only women being witches is absolutely ludicrous. I should turn you into a frog for saying it. Warlocks practice dark magic—stay away from them. Oh, wait. You were sleeping with one before I brought you here,” he said sarcastically.

  “Wait…what? Dominic’s a warlock?” I burst out laughing. “Dom couldn’t make a one-dish casserole, much less cast a fucking spell!”

  Gabriel arched an eyebrow. “Useless, was he?” He asked dryly.

  “You have no idea,” I agreed. “He didn’t help at the store, ran around with his friends without ever once asking me to join, wouldn’t help cook, wouldn’t help clean.” I thought about it for a split second and then added, “And he wasn’t one damn bit good in bed, either.”

  One of his infamous smirks appeared. “He sounds like a real winner, that Dominic. Why did you stay with him? Agree to marry him?”

  I opened my mouth to answer and then slammed it shut because I realized that I didn’t have an answer. He wasn’t nice to me. Actually, he was rather mean and wasn’t afraid to use his fists to make his point. He was always disrespectful and treated me more like a possession than a lover. I hadn’t really even thought about him since Poppet had pulled me from the shop. I frowned. Why had I stayed with him? “I-I don’t know why I stayed with him,” I finally answered, feeling ashamed of myself.

  “How about that? It looks like Dom can conjure better than you realized,” Gabriel answered. To soften the blow, he handed another beignet across the table.