Spice Box: Sixteen Steamy Stories

by Raine Miller

  “No.”

  “Any chance your man did?”

  Vasilije tried to imagine what someone named Jasper looked like. He could imagine one of the Swamprats being named Jasper, but would Teagan have known any vampires from that group?

  “I don’t know.” Turning to Sasa, he asked, “Did Teagan know anyone named Jasper?”

  Sasa shook her head and leaned in toward him to whisper, “I don’t know if I can be of any help. While we were having troubles...well, I didn’t see as much of him. He might have met someone then. I just don’t know. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Just try to think if you ever remember that name.”

  “I don’t. I’m sorry.”

  Vasilije turned back to LeClerc. “We don’t know if Teagan knew any Jasper.”

  LeClerc dealt a hand of poker and sat back to study his cards. “Well, that’s the name I hear might know something about your vamp. Seems he heard about someone getting staked a few nights back. I don’t know if that’s your man, but it’s worth a shot.”

  “Do you know anything about him?”

  Vasilije waited as LeClerc and his vampires bet and took their cards. Another bet and a call and LeClerc was ready to focus on their conversation again. “Other than he’s not one of us, all I know is his first name and where to find him. Wish I could help more.”

  “No, you’ve been a big help. Thanks.”

  LeClerc folded and threw his cards down in disgust on the table. “Yvette, bring me the address of that Jasper guy.”

  Happy to have something to go on, Vasilije took the address from Yvette and prepared to leave. Leaning over him, intentionally dangling her breasts just an inch away from his mouth, Yvette eyed Sasa and he tensed for what might be a problem.

  “You look familiar, hon. Where do I know you from?”

  Leaning back, he looked at Sasa’s surprised face. It seemed impossible that she’d know Yvette, but then again, she had been a vampire’s girlfriend.

  “Oh, no. I’m sorry. I don’t think we’ve ever met,” Sasa answered, her voice shaky.

  “I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere before. You from around here?”

  “Yes. I bet you just think you saw me because I’m pretty common looking. You know, brown hair and brown eyes. Very average.”

  Yvette stood up again and Vasilije took that as their cue to leave. Before he could take a step, though, Yvette yelled, “Quiterie’s! That’s where I know you from. You’re Sasa, the voodoo lady’s friend.”

  Vasilije turned back to look at Sasa and saw the blood drain from her face. Voodoo?

  CHAPTER 11

  Sasa looked around at each of the faces that stared at her. The vampire LeClerc, with his long black hair and almost comical, precisely shaped moustache, seemed amused by the revelation that Yvette had just announced. His broad smile lit up his face and more than before, he looked like one of the performers common to the Quarter. Yvette seemed pleased by what she surely saw was recognition in her eyes. Sasa had recognized her at the door and had hoped to escape without her figuring out who she was.

  And Vasilije. His icy blue eyes stared at her in suspicion almost telegraphing the question he must have been asking himself. How does Sasa know a voodoo priestess?

  How would she explain her relationship with Quiterie?

  Her mind raced as his blue eyes stared intently into hers. With little effort, she sensed his confusion but was happy to know he wasn’t angry. Yet.

  “Sasa was Teagan’s girlfriend. It’s been hard on her dealing with the loss.”

  Stunned by Vasilije’s sympathetic words, Sasa stared at him as she heard LeClerc ask, “And now she’s yours?”

  “She’s my responsibility. As Teagan’s sire, I have to ensure she’s protected. I owe that to him.”

  She’d been wrong. Vasilije’s anger came at her in waves now, despite the calm tone in his voice.

  “I understand. That’s what I’d do if one of mine was staked. It’s how Yvette came to me.”

  Yvette sat down on LeClerc’s lap and kissed him. As Sasa silently pleaded with her eyes for Vasilije to take her out of there, he took her by the hand, said his goodbyes, and led her out to the street.

  Jeremy came up behind them on the sidewalk. “Voodoo? Wow! You’re one interesting girl.”

  “Jeremy, go back to the house now.”

  Vasilije’s voice was as hard as stone and even Jeremy seemed to understand not to anger him more. Without a word, he turned toward the direction of the house and walked away.

  “I can explain, Vasilije.”

  He said nothing, instead roughly taking her by the arm and leading her into the crowd. Sasa followed him, sensing the anger growing inside him by the minute. Worse, beneath the anger was hurt. She felt it and winced in pain as it touched her inside.

  If he’d just give her a chance, she could explain. At least in part. He had every reason to be angry. It was true. She had lied to him, but that was before she knew him.

  Sasa knew that wasn’t entirely true, no matter how much she wanted to convince herself it was. She’d been lying to him from the moment she’d met him. What choice did she have? Tatiana had lived up to her part of their deal. Her mother was no longer sick and dying. So now she had to live up to her part of the bargain—even if it ate at her every moment of the day.

  Turning onto a side street, Sasa prayed he’d listen to what she had to say. She may not be able to tell him the entire truth, but she needed him to know that she wasn’t the liar he thought she was.

  Vasilije spun her around and pushed her hard against the cement wall of a building. Stunned, she heard the click as his fangs slammed into his mouth and saw the rage in his eyes, making them look colder than ever before.

  “You’ve got one chance to explain what’s going on before I drain you, my dear Sasa.”

  “Vasilije, it’s not what you think.”

  Ominously, he leaned in toward her neck and grazed his fangs across her skin. “I’m running out of patience, love.”

  “Please listen. Please.”

  He pulled back from her and stood staring at her angrily. Fighting back tears, Sasa hoped he remembered what he’d said the last time they stood like this.

  “I do know Quiterie. She helps me with my mother. You see, mama’s sick and I couldn’t stand to see her in pain anymore. So I went to Quiterie for something to take her pain away. And then I had to go back again and again because she always got worse again. I couldn’t afford to pay her, so I agreed to help her by using my talent.”

  “Which is?”

  “I’m an empath.”

  Vasilije stood still as a stone staring at her and then squinted his eyes angrily. “You’re lying.”

  “No. I admit I lied by not telling you, but I really am an empath. I can prove it.”

  He released her shoulders and stepped back from her. “How?”

  “I know what you’re feeling right now.”

  “Pet, you’d have to be blind or stupid not to know what I’m feeling right now. You’ll have to do better, Sasa.”

  Tentatively, she reached out to place her hand on his chest above his heart and opened herself up to let in the hurt and betrayal he felt. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

  He pulled her hand from him and pushed her away. “Nice trick, but you’re wrong. You couldn’t hurt me. Now get the fuck away from me before I follow through on my threat and drain you right here.”

  Sasa grabbed his arm as he turned to walk away from her. Spinning back to face her, he showed none of the kindness she’d seen in him before.

  “Please, Vasilije. You have to believe me. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  Opening his mouth a sliver, he showed her the tip of his fangs. “You better hope this Quiterie backs up your story or the next time I won’t let you go.”

  His emotions hit her squarely in the chest and she backed up away from him. Her head hung, she said quietly, “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

  “Get away from me
.”

  Sasa dropped his sleeve and watched in misery as he walked away. As much as she wanted to curl up and die from the sadness she’d felt from him, she had to get to Quiterie and warn her. The voodoo shop was only a few blocks away, so she set out hurriedly, hoping to get there before he did. While she walked, she called the voodoo priestess but each time got her voicemail.

  Pressing redial, she snapped, “Fucking Quiterie! You’re lucky if he doesn’t drain you tonight.”

  Again the voodoo priestess’s voicemail came through the phone. “Quiterie, it’s Sasa. Call me the second you get this.”

  Jamming the phone into her pocket, Sasa made her way through the drunken crowd on Bourbon Street, bouncing off people and even a light post before the throng of people thinned out and she was once again alone. Not that being alone was what she wanted.

  The memory of the hurt in Vasilije’s eyes tore at her heart. Would he ever forgive her? Would he ever again be that man who promised to protect her and swore he’d stake one of his own to ensure she wasn’t harmed? Sadly, she admitted to herself he wouldn’t when he found out virtually everything about her had been a lie, and worse yet, she’d played a part in Teagan’s murder.

  How had everything spun so out of control?

  Quiterie’s shop on Iberville was dark when she arrived, and Sasa prayed to God she would call before Vasilije could find her. As she turned to leave, she ran headlong into Tatiana, who stood directly in her path.

  “Having a lovely night out?” she asked in her usual voice that made Sasa instantly uneasy.

  “Just another night in the Quarter, I guess.” Sasa hoped she didn’t see the emotions she was fighting to control as she steadied herself on her feet.

  “Looking for our friend, Quiterie? She seems to be out for the evening.”

  Hopefully, she wasn’t out permanently. Sasa smiled nervously. “You haven’t seen her tonight?”

  Twirling her long blond hair around her finger, Tatiana shook her head. “No, but I wasn’t looking for her. Why are you looking for her, Sasa?”

  Fear bubbling up inside her, Sasa wondered if Tatiana had run into Vasilije as he was looking for Quiterie. Had she gotten her revenge already?

  “Just in the neighborhood, I guess, so I thought I’d say hi.”

  Tatiana leaned in toward her and her fangs slowly dropped into her mouth. “I would think you’d have better things to do with your time than look for our voodoo friend. How are you doing with Vasilije?”

  “Fine. Just fine. I have to go now, Tatiana. He’s expecting me and I don’t want to give him any reason to think something’s wrong.”

  Sasa turned to walk away, but the vampire caught her by the sleeve. “Take care, Sasa. I’ll be coming to see you soon.”

  ***

  Each step he took away from Sasa made the anger that raged inside him worse. He should have known there was something off about her. Every time he was near her she seemed to know just what he was feeling. Even when he was sure he’d stuffed his emotions down where no other being could know they existed, she knew.

  It had been nice having someone who understood. Now it felt like shit knowing she’d lied to him about who she was.

  Vasilije cringed at the anger that swirled inside him. He could handle lies from women he didn’t give a fuck about, but from the few who he’d let in, they hurt worse than almost any other pain.

  That was the problem. He’d let her in. Hundreds of years and just as many women should have taught him not to, but he had.

  No wonder Teagan loved her.

  What Vasilije needed now was information from Jasper, a stiff drink, and a soft woman, in that order. The Jasper part wasn’t too far away, if he was gauging the directions correctly, and then the drink and the woman would soon follow. Then he’d check out Sasa’s story with the voodoo lady.

  Fuck. He didn’t want to think of Sasa anymore. Not until he’d had the drink, at least.

  The address LeClerc had given him was in the Irish Channel section and Vasilije saw instantly as he entered the area that this wasn’t the New Orleans the tourism board put on the brochures. Wrought iron and lavish galleries overlooking busy streets lit up in neon lights were replaced by one-story shotgun houses that teetered on dilapidation.

  He stopped under a flickering streetlight to check that the address on the paper in his hand matched the numbers on the house in front of him.

  2730.

  Vasilije stepped up the two broken concrete steps to the door and knocked. As he waited for someone to answer, he studied the structure in front of him. No more than twelve feet wide, the green painted house resembled something closer to a storage container. Compared to his house in London or Teagan’s in the Garden District, this looked like someplace someone down on his luck would stay.

  It looked like a Jasper’s house.

  No one answered his second knock, so he made his way around to the back of the tiny, narrow house and climbed the rickety wooden stairs to the back door. Peering through the dirty glass window, he saw nothing but darkness.

  “Fuck. Well, I’ll be back for you, Jasper.”

  He let the screen door slam closed and stepped onto the stairs, but before his foot could hit the second one, something attacked him, taking him to the ground.

  “Who are you? What’s your name?”

  His attacker wasn’t big, but he was fast. However, contrary to popular belief, size always trumped speed, especially when size can pin speed to the ground. Rolling the man over, Vasilije pressed all his weight into his arms and hands and forced him against the concrete.

  “Settle down and I’ll let you go, Jasper.”

  The man beneath his hold looked up in surprise. “How do you know who I am?”

  “Let’s just say you seem like a Jasper.”

  Vasilije studied the face of his would-be informant. Dirty blond hair hung to his shoulders in what looked like greasy clumps. Jasper looked like he hadn’t seen a razor in days, and Vasilije guessed it had been at least that long since he’d had a bath, if the sickening smell wafting up to his nostrils was any indication.

  “You gonna let me up? Or are we stayin like this all night?”

  Getting back to his feet, Vasilije looked down as Jasper sat up, slid his hands through his hair, and sprung to his feet. Pushing past him, the man climbed the stairs and walked into the house with Vasilije following behind.

  In the light, the inside of the house looked as run down as it did outside. Partially chipped plaster and paint marked the walls and everything, including the white paint that remained, seemed to have a yellow-brownish haze over it. Jasper took a seat on an old red and yellow plaid couch and lit a cigarette as he gestured for Vasilije to sit down.

  “Take a load off.”

  Looking around at his choices, Vasilije spied a chair that matched the couch in pattern and age and an old milk crate.

  “Thanks. I’m good. I just need some information.”

  Jasper shrugged and took a deep drag of his cigarette. “Suit yourself. Sorry about that out there. I didn’t know who you were. Coulda been a bad man.”

  “I still could be.”

  “Nah. I got a sense from you while you were makin me part of the sidewalk.”

  Is this town full of empaths?

  “Do you know what I am?”

  Jasper butted out his cigarette and sat back to study Vasilije. “Other than a vamp, what else do I need to know? You feelin hungry?”

  The thought of putting his lips against Jasper’s greasy skin make Vasilije’s stomach turn, and he grimaced in disgust. “No thanks.”

  “Hell, I wasn’t offerin. I have no interest in you drinkin from me like a damn Coca-Cola. What kind of information you lookin for?”

  “Someone killed one of my vampires. I hear you may know something about it.”

  Jasper nervously lit another cigarette. “Now I think I am gettin a bad man vibe from you. I didn’t see anything. Sorry, I can’t help you.”

  Vasilije opene
d his mouth and let his fangs snap into place. The terrified look on Jasper’s face told him the effect had worked.

  “Jasper, I’m going to ask one more time before I sink my teeth into your neck and bleed you dry. What do you know about a vampire getting killed a few nights ago?”

  Two deep drags burned the cigarette down to the filter and Jasper began to backpedal on his earlier statement. “Okay, okay. I...I might be able to help you. You don’t have to fuckin threaten to kill me. Who’s your friend?”

  “Teagan Collins.”

  “Okay, okay. That sounds like a name I wouldn’t forget. What’s your name?”

  “Vasilije.”

  “Just Vasilije? Like Madonna?”

  “No, nothing like Madonna. Stop stalling. What do you know?”

  Another cigarette made its way to Jasper’s mouth. “You heard right. I did hear about a vamp getting staked the other night. I mentioned it to one of the vamps that hangs out at the Channel Bar. But I don’t know the guy’s name that got it.”

  “What do you know?”

  Jasper’s hands began to shake, and the ash from his cigarette fell onto the dirty coffee table in front of him. “A friend of mine said he was at a lady’s house the other night and heard some kind of ruckus two doors down where his lady said a vamp lived. Something like someone really screaming up a storm. At first he thought it could be some guy and his lady gettin their freak on. You know how some ladies get like that when it gets all hot and heavy.”

  Vasilije’s impatience began to get the better of him and he took a step toward the couch and growled.

  “Okay, okay. I guess maybe someone like you doesn’t get that kind of lady.”

  “Move on with the story.”

  “Okay, okay. So my buddy stepped out onto the porch—he was over in the Garden District—and listened for a bit. Seems whoever it was screaming was mighty upset about something having to do with another guy.”

  “Did your friend hear any names?”

  Jasper shook his head quickly. “No. No names. But he said there was a lady with them. She didn’t say anything, though.”

  “Go on.”

  “He saw what they looked like. The lady had dark hair and the other one was tall and blond.”