“You really think your interest lies in his appearance? He’s a handsome young man—but that’s not it.” She put some sort of first aid ointment on my shoulder and neck.
“I barely know him.”
“And you’re going to have to work hard to find out more.” She took the old ripped dress. “For right now you need to rest before he takes you home.”
I nodded. “Thank you for all the help.”
“Of course.” She led me down to a small bedroom with a double bed. “Rest here.”
“Is Owen still in the house?” I asked.
“I’m right here.”
I turned, and he was in the hallway. “I can sit with you if you want.”
I nodded. “Please, do.”
I lay down on the white and red quilt, and Owen sat down in the chair next to the bed.
“Don’t let me sleep too long.”
“I won’t.”
I tried to keep my eyes open so I could enjoy the time I could with him, but my eyes were too heavy. My lids closed.
“What’s your name?” He asked in half a whisper.
“Daisy.”
“That’s a beautiful name.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m glad you’re okay. You scared me. I thought I was too late when we first got there.”
“We? So there was someone else there?”
“Yes. A friend.” He didn’t elaborate, so I didn’t push for more. The other guy didn’t matter.
“And he’s a Pteron too?” Even though I didn’t care who the guy was, I did wonder what he was.
“Yes, but you need to stop talking about us. You need to forget we exist.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” I opened my eyes as best I could.
He was turned to look at me. “I don’t know, but talking about us will only put you in danger or get you committed.”
“Both wonderful possibilities.”
“Great sense of humor.”
“What did Mayanne mean by my being meant for a paranormal?”
“I don’t know, but you need sleep. Rest up.” He turned away.
“All right.” I closed my eyes.
“If you need anything let me know.”
Need anything? How about want? I decided to be bold, to take one more chance. “Could I get a kiss? Something good to turn this whole weekend around?”
“You want me to kiss you?”
I kept my eyes closed, unwilling to see him laugh.
“If I kiss you, will you promise not to talk about us? To forget about Pterons?”
“I can’t forget.”
“Will you try? At least promise not to tell anyone.”
“I can promise to try.”
I felt the bed shift, and I stayed as still as possible. Was he moving closer to me?
His lips brushed against mine lightly, but that small contact set me on fire. I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck. The action did something to him, because the feather light kiss grew more fevered. I soaked up the salty-sweetness of his mouth. My entire body hummed and responded to his lips. His hands pressed into the bed on either side of me as he hovered over me, and I buried my hands in hair. In those moments I knew one thing. I was forever ruined for other guys. Forget the witch’s concoction—this was seduction’s kiss.
Lure
The Allure Chronicles
Alyssa Rose Ivy
Chapter One
Daisy
“Are you ready to tell me about your recent dreams?” My psychiatrist, the one my mother forced me to see, watched as I chipped off more of my dark purple nail polish.
“There’s nothing worth sharing.”
“Are you sure?” she pressed. She seemed to think pushing me made me more talkative. It didn’t.
“Absolutely. There’s been nothing new for months.” My answer was completely true. My dreams hadn’t changed. Of course she’d probably want to know that I was still having the same recurring dreams that had filled my nights for over two and a half years.
“You haven’t been thinking about that boy then?” She pushed her glasses up on the bridge of her nose.
“I’m seeing someone new. I told you that a few weeks ago.”
“Oh, yes. Andrew, isn’t it?” She leaned back in her chair.
“Yes. It’s long distance, but we’ll get to see each other later this week.” I was getting really good at giving selective information that didn’t require outright lying.
“Are you still planning your trip down to New Orleans?”
“Yes. It’s a fantastic opportunity. I need to take the interview.” I straightened up on the couch.
“Have you considered what effect this might have on you? Whether it might trigger the dreams and thoughts again?”
“Of course I have.” Or rather I’d considered how my family and psychiatrist would respond to me going. I knew it was my only option. It had been two and a half years since I’d nearly been killed, and it had been just as long since I’d seen my rescuer, Owen. Although the fear from the close brush with death had started to fade, my desire to see Owen again hadn’t. It had increased. We’d only shared one kiss—but that kiss might as well have been branded on my lips for how difficult it was to shake the memory.
“And you think you’re ready for it? Have you considered asking a friend or family member to go with you?”
“I’m meeting Andrew there. It’s going to be fine.”
She pressed her lips together. “I am glad that you are so confident.”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m completely better now.”
“How much does Andrew know? Is he aware of your history of dreams and visons involving the city?”
“He knows everything. One of the best parts about him is how easy it is to talk to him.”
“How did he react when you told him?”
“He understood completely. He’s just glad I’m better.” Only partially true. He did understand completely, but he was the only one who knew the truth. I hadn’t given up my obsession.
“Great. It’s important that you surround yourself with people who understand. Would you like me to talk to him before you go? Make sure he’s prepared for anything you may go through?”
“No!” I replied a little too quickly. “I mean, I’d rather not have you talk to him.”
She folded her hands in her lap. “That’s your choice.”
“Thanks.” I put my bag over my shoulder. “It’s time, isn’t it?”
“It is. I’ll see you back after your trip.”
“Yeah. I’ll see you then.” I smiled before hurrying out of her office. I’d already paid my copay, so I walked out of the office and back down to the parking garage. It wasn’t until I was in the car that I let out a sigh of relief. Final obstacle out of my way. It was time to return to New Orleans.
***
I signed into Paranormal Obsessed, the online community I’d spent way too much of my free time on lately. The way I saw it, I didn’t have much of a choice. I’d tried to tell my friends and family about my experiences in New Orleans, but none of them believed me. Not even Reyna, the one friend who’d gone through it with me. When Owen told me they’d wiped Reyna’s mind of the events, he wasn’t kidding. The problem was they’d wiped her mind of a lot more. The pre-New Orleans Reyna was more interested in playing matchmaker than going to class. The post-New Orleans Reyna was the president of the community service club. Part of me thought she was a better person now, but I’d never say that out loud.
I had a new message, and I clicked on the link to open it.
AT45: Hey! We’re getting ready to hit the road. We still on for Wednesday?
The green “online” icon was lit, so I replied back quickly.
Flowergirl1: We’re still on. I just need to finish packing.
AT45: Nice. How’d that appointment go?
Flowergirl1: Fine. Same old.
Andrew knew more about my current life than most of the people who actually kne
w me. I’d learned pretty quickly that trying to convince people you’d met paranormal creatures can only get you in trouble. I stopped trying when the word “committed” got tossed around. So, on the outside I was back to being the peppy, “normal” sorority girl I was supposed to be. I got decent enough grades in college and went out enough to keep my friends from worrying. I didn’t enjoy going out though because I got way too much of the wrong kind of attention, and there was a certain witch to blame for that. At least it wasn’t a problem online. Everything was easier when I was just typing.
I tossed my tablet next to me on the bed and closed my eyes. I remembered that Halloween night like it had just happened. I’d learned to block out the bad details. The ones about being kidnapped by vampires and nearly drained to death. The details I didn’t let myself forget were the ones about Owen rescuing me from the house and bringing me to be healed. I didn’t forget about his beautiful black wings, or the way he said my name. Daisy. And most of all, I didn’t forget about the kiss.
“If I kiss you, will you promise not to talk about us? To forget about Pterons?”
“I can’t forget.”
“Will you try? At least promise not to tell anyone.”
“I can promise to try.”
I felt the bed shift, and I stayed as still as possible. Was he moving closer to me?
His lips brushed against mine lightly, but that small contact set me on fire. I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck. The action did something to him, because the feather light kiss grew more fevered. I soaked up the salty-sweetness of his mouth. My entire body hummed and responded to his lips. His hands pressed into the bed on either side of me as he hovered over me, and I buried my hands in hair.
I opened my eyes and sighed. The daydream was over. That was it. After the kiss I’d fallen asleep, and the next thing I knew I was waking up in the passenger seat of Reyna’s car. She was pounding on the window asking why I’d spent the night out there. It didn’t take me long to discover that she remembered nothing—and that she thought I’d lost my mind.
I heard a ding and checked the tablet screen.
AT45: Oh, and I think I’ve got a new lead for you. I’ll tell you more when I see you.
Flowergirl1: What kind of lead?
The green signed on icon disappeared. Of course. He enjoyed teasing me with stuff like that. It didn’t matter. I was finally going back. College graduation was a week behind me, and I had a legitimate reason to return to the Crescent City—a job interview for an internship at The New Orleans Times. I’d never planned to pursue a career in journalism, but after all the time I spent researching to find out every little detail I could about Owen and paranormal creatures, it was a natural decision to switch my major.
I pulled out my go-to black, wheeled duffel bag and started tossing in some clothes. The bag was getting old, but the wheels still worked fine. I tossed in my bag of toiletries and two pairs of shoes. I was trying to travel light, but I needed some nice clothes for the interview.
I opened my door and started to drag my duffel down the hall of my childhood home. I had no intention of making it my primary residence again.
“Do you need help with your bags?” my dad called up.
“No. It’s just one.”
He ignored my response and met me before I’d even made it three stairs. He pulled the bag from my hand.
“Thanks.” I appreciated the help even though the bag wasn’t super heavy.
“Of course. I still can’t believe you’re leaving again so soon. You’ve only been home a few days.”
“This internship could be a great opportunity, and they scheduled the interview.”
“I know. I was just hoping you’d be around a little this summer.”
“I’m only going to be gone a few days. Even if I get the job, the internship won’t start for a month or so.” I highly doubted I was going to get the job, which meant every second counted during the interview trip.
“All right. I guess we should get moving if you’re going to make your flight.”
“Yeah, I don’t want to miss it.” I tried to keep myself as calm as possible. My dad was acting cool, but I knew he was worried about me going back to New Orleans. My mom was the one who made me see a therapist, but dad still worried in his own way.
Less than three hours later I was buckled in and ready for take-off. This was really happening. In a few hours I’d be back in New Orleans.
Chapter Two
Daisy
I checked the details of my hotel information again to make sure the name matched the building in front of me. The hotel was gorgeous—even more gorgeous in person than it was online. Maybe it was worth the ridiculously high price tag. My mom had insisted I splurge on a nice place to stay. Since I was only staying two nights, I decided to go for it because the location was perfect. It was right down in the French Quarter.
I was immediately hit by a wave of heat as I stepped out of the airport shuttle and headed to the front doors. A bell boy held open the door for me, and I stepped into the absolutely breathtaking lobby of the Crescent City Hotel. My eyes first traveled to a beautiful chandelier with dangling crystals, before I noticed the large travertine tiles covering the floor and the dark wainscoting that framed the room.
I walked over to the front desk, eyeing a beautiful mahogany bar. I’d have to check out the bar later.
“May I help you?” a petite woman asked.
“Yes, I’d like to check in. The name is Daisy Welford.”
“One second.” She typed something into her computer. “I’ve got your reservation right here, Ms. Welford. What card would you like to leave for incidentals?”
I slid my credit card across the desk.
“Here you go. You’re on the fourth floor. The elevators are across the lobby.” She slid a paper envelope across the counter.
“Thanks.” I returned my credit card to its spot in my wallet and pocketed the envelope with the room keys before walking over to the elevator. A man dressed in a deep gray business suit was also waiting.
An elevator arrived, and I stepped in. The man didn’t move to enter. “There’s plenty of room.”
“That’s fine, I’m going down.”
“Uh, ok.” The doors closed. What was he talking about? The lobby was the ground floor. The guy must have been confused, but I’d been judged enough the past few years to do the same to anyone else. I pushed the button for the fourth floor.
I found my room and walked in. The room was fairly small with a queen sized bed, but it seemed nice. I set down my duffel and purse on the bed and looked out the window. It looked over an interior courtyard. Not bad. I had nothing planned until my interview the next morning. I needed to find some dinner, and that was a perfect excuse to take a walk around the French Quarter. I made a fast stop in the bathroom before heading right back downstairs to the lobby. I was met with another burst of humid heat as soon as I stepped outside, but I quickly got used to it. Born and raised in the south, that kind of heat wasn’t new.
The streets were far less crowded than the last time I’d walked them. Maybe it was the time of year, or because it wasn’t Halloween weekend. Either way, it was nice to walk around without worrying about the crowds. I was able to better appreciate the architecture and the sights and smells of the city. It reminded me of the quiet morning I’d spent downtown last time.
At first I just wandered down Chartres Street, but as the sun started to set, I headed over to Jackson Square. It looked nearly identical to the last time I’d walked through, and most of the vendors were the same.
I took a deep breath before heading over to Royal Street. This was my chance to try to find some of the people I’d met my first trip to New Orleans. I wanted to start with the small photography studio. It seemed safer than the Voodoo shop, which had been way more real than I’d originally thought. I stopped in front of where the photography shop should have been. I wasn’t all that surprised to find the store now housed a new artist.
There was a lot of turnover in the art world, particularly when it came to maintaining a high priced store front.
“Can I help you?” A guy who was probably in his mid-twenties asked from the doorway.
“Oh. Sorry. I was just looking for someone who used to have a store here.”
“Oh. My dad’s had this place for two years now. He got it at a steal because the guy who had it before him up and left without paying the rest of his lease. ”
I thought about the photographer. He didn’t seem the type to dash out. Either way, it meant one thing. There was no way I was going to find him now. It wasn’t the end of the world though. The real person I needed to see worked at the Voodoo shop. “Thanks for your time.” I started to walk away.
“Wait.”
I turned back. “Yes?”
“This is going to sound a little bit forward, but I’m going to ask anyway.”
Ugh. I decided to meet his question head on. “Sorry, I’m seeing someone.”
His face fell. “Oh, would he really mind if we went out for coffee one time?”
“He wouldn’t, but I would.” I walked away quickly. I never knew when the after effects of the magic concoction I’d been given my last time in town would kick in. A witch had tried to remove the remnants of it from me, but she hadn’t been completely successful. I definitely attracted way more attention than I had before, and some guys (and girls) were more affected than others. By the footsteps I heard behind me, this guy was one of them.
“Wait!”
I didn’t turn. Hopefully he’d get bored and leave me alone.
“Wait up. Please.”
The desperation in his voice made me feel sorry for him. I stopped.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to scare you off. You’re just the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, and I didn’t even get your name.”
“I’m not the most beautiful. If you take a few deep breaths and think about it, you’ll realize that.”
“What?”
Lure Page 7
