“This is going to be such an awesome trip!” said Damek.
Indeed. I could hardly wait.
Customs was a doddle. A collective glamor from me rendered our contraband undetectable to the officers. Ah, yes, the abilities of the vampire are truly unprecedented.
I reflected on the last time I had traveled on an aeroplane. I had been journeying to America on that occasion also, to rescue my little hellion from another of Luce’s training camps. Thoughts regarding that occasion made my vampire blood boil in my veins and steeled my determination to defeat Luce once and for all. I would not rest until that creature had been taken down.
To see my tempest walking ahead of me now, in the fullness of her health, my child growing inside her, no less, filled me with such gladness. Furthermore, I had an excellent view of her bottom.
My word, the woman had the most delectable rump ! I could have sworn it was growing even more luscious, but I would certainly not inform Bryn of this fact. I had learned from much experience that ladies did not appreciate having such vital statistics pointed out to them. The answer to “Does my bum look big in this?” was always a resounding no! If there were an exception to this rule, I had yet to come across it.
I thought, too, about the last time I had been in customs and the flirtatious way in which I had dealt with the female customs officer. I realized that I no longer had the desire to be frisked by anyone other than my little hellion. Funny how things could change so dramatically in a relatively short amount of time.
This would also be my first flight on which I would not join the mile-high club, with either a female passenger or a flight attendant as my tasty snack. I could ask Bryn to oblige me, of course, but I had the distinct feeling she would tell me where to go in no uncertain terms.
And, lo, how I enjoyed it when she did! That fire in her voice, the glare in her eyes!
As it turned out, it was Audrey who joined the mile-high club on this particular trip. Those faeries are quite the promiscuous lot.
Bryn
I’d gotten quite a shock seeing Dureau and Klassje kissing like that. I struggled to decipher my feelings because they didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me. I was relieved on the one hand but irritated on the other.
But why did I feel irritated?
It was none of my business what Dureau was up to, and I liked Klaasje. Furthermore, they were both free agents…
But it wasn’t that long ago that Dureau claimed he was in love with me , I thought to myself. Yes, I’d rejected him, and yes, I’d chosen Sinjin.
So, did I want Dureau to pine for me for the rest of his life or something?
Of course not! I wanted him to be happy, just as I was happy. So why was I feeling this way? Was my ego such a fragile and petty thing? It was an embarrassing question to face.
Growing up in Luce’s camp, emotions were something I’d learned to suppress. If feelings did surface, they were quashed immediately, as they were considered a sign of weakness.
Since my arrival in Kinloc h Kirk, where the expression of emotion was not only allowed, but actively encouraged, I’d tried my best to both express and understand the confusing array of human emotions on offer. The task often overwhelmed me. Jealousy was one of the hardest feelings to deal with, I found. It was something I absolutely didn’t want to feel, but seemed completely powerless to stop when it overtook me.
I decided to put the whole Dureau/Klassje thing aside for the time being. I was here on important business. Time to focus on the matter at hand.
But then I saw New Orleans .
Our taxi pulled out from the airport and into the city at sunset.
“Bourbon Street, my good man,” Sinjin instructed the driver.
He looked over at me as he settled into his seat and reached across, squeezing my thigh. I covered his hand with mine and he immediately looked at it, almost as though in surprise. But then he looked at me and we smiled at each other as the last rays of sun glinted against his incisors. Were they longer than usual, or was my imagination playing tricks on me? Sinjin also seemed to have a new glint in his eye. In fact, our whole group appeared to have been infected by a kind of feverish excitement. It was as if the city itself was reaching its fingers through the cab windows and luring us in. I wondered if my face held the same sense of adventure and excitement as theirs.
When the car pulled up to the side of Bourbon Street, Sinjin and I piled out. I immediately noticed that the street was jam-packed and noisy as hell. And dirty. At first, I assumed it must be a shopping street, but closer inspection revealed it to be lined with restaurants, bars and night clubs. Groups of revellers wandered by, many looking the worse for wear. We caught snatches of music from open doorways as we wandered by, not to mention a cocktail of exotic scents.
Two other cars pulled up behind us, and the rest of our group piled into the street, all of them craning their necks to take in the sights—and smells (not all of them good)—surrounding us.
“ Mmm, ” Audrey raised her nose to the night air. “Jambalaya. Let’s go in here,” she said, and didn’t wait for a response, just wandered into the nearest restaurant as if under a spell. The rest of us followed because we didn’t know where else to go, I assumed. As for me, my mouth was watering.
The interior of the restaurant was dark and atmospheric, with strange, hypnotic beats emanating from the speakers. Sinjin led the way to a table by a large window. Damek sat beside Audrey, who sat beside her brother on the opposite side of the table from Sinjin. I sat beside him, of course. From our table and the large window, we could watch the ragtag mob that was New Orleans as it walked by. Sinjin ordered a round of mint juleps, mine without alcohol, which suited me just fine.
“ Mon Dieu , Sinjin, you are so old fashioned. Garcon !” Audrey called back the waiter after giving Sinjin a thunderous look.
“A bottle of bud, please, ” she ordered. Then, to Sinjin, she said, “I don’t need a man to order my drinks for me.”
Neither did I, but the mint juleps were delicious all the same. No complaints from Damek, either. Any alcohol was just fine as far as he was concerned. He couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he knocked back his drink.
“Young man, you would do well to consume your cocktail less rapidly,” Sinjin said. “You are unused to spirits.”
“Well, why did you buy him alcohol in the first place?” Audrey demanded. “It is irresponsible.”
Clearly, Sinjin wasn’t her favorite person, and I had to wonder why. I reminded myself to ask Sinjin about it later.
“Hey, I’m legal in Scotland,” Damek argued with a shrug.
Audrey looked at Sinjin and shook her head. “He is a minor here.”
“I beg to differ. Damek has the physical and mental age of someone in his early twenties,” Sinjin argued. “You will have observed that the waiter did not even trouble to ask for his I.D.”
“He didn’t even exist a year ago!” Audrey nearly yelled. “That makes him a baby in my eyes!”
“She might have a point, Sinjin,” I said, cautiously, not wanting to gang up on him because that wouldn’t end well. “In fact, should any of us be drinking? We’re here on important business.”
“Nonsense!” Sinjin responded. “One aperitif before dinner signals the height of sophistication! Even in an establishment such as this.” He wrinkled his nose as he looked dubiously around at the decor.
Audrey snorted in disgust. “You are such a snob.”
He completely ignored her. “And besides, we already agreed we all need a good night’s sleep before tackling our mission. Not to mention a decent meal. It is a well-known fact that an army marches on its stomach. Bottoms up, everyone!”
Sinjin held up his glass for those who were so inclined to clink. The only one who refused him was Audrey, who looked away with a stubborn expression on her face. Dureau touched his glass to Sinjin’s, an amused look in his eye, and Damek clashed his glass so violently against Sinjin’s that he spilled half his drink on the table. W
hich was no bad thing, as he was already slurring his words. Sinjin looked at me and rolled his eyes.
“One sniff of the barmaid’s apron …” he said.
Luckily, the food arrived, preventing any further arguments. Sinjin sat back and watched us devouring our dinner with what seemed to be genuine pleasure. It made me feel a little guilty.
“Don’t you miss eating?” I asked .
“ Au contraire, Bete Noir . My lack of need for food has made me a very rich man. Imagine how much money I have managed to save on grocery shopping and eating out alone.”
I’d never considered his vampirism in such an economical way before. Sinjin tapped the side of his nose and grinned.
“Time and compound interest, my dear. Besides, there are other sensual pleasures I am still more than capable of enjoying.”
The way he looked at me when he said those words caused my stomach to perform a little flip. I blushed and looked down at my plate, which was already almost empty. I glanced around at everyone else’s plates and saw they were still half-full.
Well, you’re eating for two, I told myself. It was a good excuse, and I was sticking to it.
When we were finally all so stuffed that we couldn’t possibly eat another thing, and when Damek was so drunk (on his one drink) that he could barely stand, Sinjin called for and paid the bill. My conscience was clear, having just discovered how well-off he was. Dureau thanked him graciously, and Audrey uttered a kind of “harrumph.” Damek sat slumped with his head on the table and drooled.
“Come on,” said Dureau, taking Damek by the shoulder. “We’d better get this boy back to his hotel room.”
“Agreed,” said Sinjin, taking Damek’s other shoulder.
“Is the hotel far?” I asked.
“It is but a stroll, Bete Noir . An opportunity, if you will, to admire the city at night-time.”
Sounded good to me.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Bryn
With Audrey grumbling , our group of five made its way slowly up Bourbon Street. The atmosphere was electric and like nothing I’d ever experienced before. I was reminded of how sheltered my life had been up until now. Yes, I had fought battles and won against formidable foes, but my day-to-day life had been very basic. I had really only ever been in Luce’s training camps—which looked identical, wherever in the world they were located—and Kinloch Kirk, which, although a place of outstanding natural beauty, was not exactly famous for its night life.
I’d been on a couple of road trips in middle America, but nowhere nearly as big and exciting as New Orleans. Clearly, I had to get out more.
The streets of the French Quarter had become a kind of labyrinth, and there was no way I would have been able to find my way back to the restaurant once we arrived at our hotel. The Pontchartrain, Sinjin had called it. Apparently, he always booked this hotel when he visited New Orleans, as it was one of the best.
Audrey and Dureau had heard of the hotel, too, and even Audrey looked pleased at the prospect of staying there. I was savoring the idea myself when I happened to look down one of the alleys bordering the hotel. I did a double-take because I thought I saw someone standing and watching us, but when I blinked, the figure was already gone.
Yet, I remembered exactly what the person had been wearing—dressed all in black and wearing a distinctive top hat. It couldn’t be, could it? Furthermore, how would he have known we were here, anyway?
“Um.” I chose my words carefully. “Where does Monsieur D live again?”
“He has many residences,” said Dureau, “but he calls New Orleans home. Why?”
“Um.”
Dureau stopped walking and looked at me. “Bryn. Did you see him? Or sense him?”
“Might have. I’m not sure. I just saw a figure down an alleyway and I thought …”
Dureau and Audrey exchanged an urgent look. “He knows we’re here.”
“But how could he know?”
“Monsieur D knows everything, Bryn. He is extremely powerful.” I didn’t appreciate the tone that Audrey used when speaking to me. It was obvious she still resented me for being with Sinjin. We would have to have a talk. But not now.
“Perchance it can work in our favor,” said Sinjin.
“How do you mean? ” I asked.
“Well, he is somewhat obliged to Jolie at the moment,” Sinjin responded. “Monsieur D wants to defeat Luce, and he knows the area well … perhaps he would be prepared to assist us.”
“Hmm. Maybe, ” said Dureau. “You never know with him, though. He’s such a slippery customer.”
“Be that as it may,” Sinjin replied. “It might be better to keep our enemies close.”
“Perhaps.” Dureau’s shrug was non-committal.
“Aha.” Sinjin stopped and smiled. “The Pontchartrain Hotel. A sight for sore eyes, indeed.”
“And for sore feet,” I said. To my dismay, my feet had started to swell when I walked long distances, and the flight hadn’t helped.
I hung back, supporting Damek as best as I could, as Sinjin and Dureau handled the check-in process. I was intimidated by the fancy lobby, but the two men looked like they were born to it, which they probably were. The male receptionist frowned at Damek and muttered something to Sinjin. Sinjin responded by slipping him a wad of bills, and his expression changed drastically.
We were all handed real, old-fashioned looking metal keys to our rooms. Four sets of keys in all. Because Sinjin and I were sharing a room.
Not just a room, but a suite.
“Oh my God,” I said as he unlocked the door and opened it for me and I walked in.
“Do you approve?”
“Um, I don’t even know what to say.”
I could feel Sinjin’s pleasure as he saw me taking everything in: the opulent arrangement of flowers in the cent er of the room, the luxurious silken drapes, the exotic basket of fruit, but most of all, the enormous bed. I walked to the window and looked out at the view beyond. When I turned back to face my room, I decided I preferred this view—Sinjin lying on the bed, his legs crossed at the ankles and his arms clasped behind his head, wearing his customary black. He was easily the most beautiful thing in the room.
I sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed beside him. He fixed his azure gaze on mine.
“Well, my darling tempest, what say you?”
I gave a little laugh. “What’s not to like?”
“Is that a yes, you approve?”
“Yes, Sinjin. That’s a resounding yes.”
His mouth curved into a smile. He looked like the cat that had gotten into the cream.
“I mean, it is a bit much,” I said as I glanced around and thought about how much my life had changed in such a short amount of time. I wasn’t accustomed to luxury like this. “We definitely don’t need this amount of space, and we could have managed with something less fancy. But it’s … very nice.”
“I wanted to spoil you. We’ve never been on holiday together before.”
“I’d hardly call this a holiday!”
“Well. Mini-break, then.”
“If you ignore the fact that we’re here to infiltrate the thoughts of an enemy tribe,” I started with a laugh. “And that we have three others tagging along with us … I guess you could call this a mini-break, yes.”
“I want to show you the world, Bete Noir .” He surprised me by taking my hands in his and staring at me intensely as he sat up. “I want to spoil you, to treat you to the very best of everything. I want to make up for lost time.”
“Okay,” I said uncertainly.
“There is so much beauty in this world of which you are not aware. We could go anywhere, explore anything!” His smile was wide, and I couldn’t help but smile myself. “I desire to see the world through your eyes, to experience everything in a way I have not in hundreds of years.”
I was beyond taken aback. And touched.
“But … but we have important work to do first,” I stammered.
“That is
true, Bete Noir . But life is for living also. And your entire life has been about conflict. You have always had to fight, so much that you think that is all there is. But there is so much more to life! Such as … pleasure.”
And in the blink of an eye, I was lying on the bed, wrapped in Sinjin’s arms.
“That’s not fair …”
He silenced my words with the deepest of kisses, and I forgot all my objections. Instead, I gave myself up to the delicious sensations that were coursing through my body. The fulfilment of my desire—that was what was urgent now.
With unbelievable skill, almost sleight of hand, Sinjin removed my clothing. My top first—over my head in one fell swoop. Then he released my breasts from my new, black sports bra, and I saw him relishing the way they bounced free. He groaned with pleasure as he took my left nipple into his mouth, massaging the other with his long, elegant and skillful fingers. I thought I must have died and gone to heaven. He removed my yoga pants and panties, discarding them in a black puddle on the floor, and proceeded to cover my naked skin with dozens of kisses.
“You too,” I said, reaching up to unbutton his black linen shirt, revealing his perfect torso, relishing the feel of his skin against my skin. It was a joint effort to remove the rest of his clothes, both of us feeling an uncontrollable urge to feast on each other’s bodies. As we writhed on the bed, I knew I’d made the right choice. Sinjin was the man for me. Any remaining thoughts of Dureau disappeared into the ether.
Sinjin entered my body and I clung to him fiercely.
“Feed on me,” I breathed, knowing how much Sinjin loved my blood.
He stopped moving and stared deep into my eyes. I felt as if he was looking into my soul.
“I don’t want to steal blood from the baby,” he said, and he was completely serious.
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