“Want to go on a date?”
“Of course!” He grinned, then his smile faltered. “It’s not really a date, is it?” Arachne shook her head. “It’s another Saint-Germain assignment, isn’t it?” Arachne nodded.
“Oof, Arachne,” Leo signed. “Can we have just one evening to ourselves? Not since your birthday . . .”
“Doubtful.”
“All right, where do you want me and when?”
“We’ll leave the apartment at six p.m. We need to head out of town to a winery.”
“You should really get yourself a cell phone,” Leo pointed out. “Eshe got a smart phone . . .”
“To get addicted to weird phone games and have them track my position? No thanks!” Arachne reached up to peck him on the cheek.
“Who’s ‘them’?” Leo squinted.
“Have fun!” She beamed and then sauntered back into the crowd. Leo took another pensive swig from his water bottle and then picked up with another tune. A few more passersby dropped some one-dollar bills into his case. Every little bit counts, he thought as he grinned and sang another upbeat jazz standard. For a few minutes he was at peace, thumping his bass and belting out his favorite classics. Arachne was right; it wasn’t ideal to play out in the midday summer heat for scraps. But it wasn’t the worst, either. The humid sun on his neck wasn’t so bad with a song on his lips. After a few more songs, he had a distinct feeling of being watched.
Of course you’re being watched. You’re playing music in a public place, he chided himself. No, no, he debated. Listen to yourself. You know better . . .
He looked up and gazed around at the small throng of farmer’s market patrons. No one seemed familiar at first . . . but then he met evergreen eyes.
Nathan! Leo gasped, and his heart nearly jumped from his chest. He ended the song prematurely with as natural a slow-down as he could muster. The small crowd clapped, and a few people threw more money in his case before meandering away. Leo casually turned away to start packing up his bass.
“Oi . . . Leo.” Nathan stepped forward.
Leo turned around and held the bass between Nathan and himself, as if it were a shield.
“Hey.” Leo forced a smile. “Nice day for a stroll?”
“You don’t need to panic, mate,” Nathan snorted. “I’m not gonna try anything out here, broad daylight and all that. Weakened powers. I just heard you playing and wanted to listen in.”
“Oh,” Leo sighed and then frowned. “Miss me?”
“Still feisty as always,” Nathan smirked. “It really is a shame you’re relegated to play out here.” He motioned with wide arms to the farmer’s market. “You making rent? Or is your new lady friend covering costs for you?”
“I’m doing well,” Leo said, icy cool.
“What I thought,” Nathan chuckled and stuck his hands in his jean pockets. “Well, mate, I was just checking in.”
He turned to leave, but Leo called out, “Wait!”
Nathan peered over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow.
“Was it you?”
Nathan sighed and shook his head. “You’re going to need to be a bit more specific, mate.”
“Did you release the Casquette Sisters?”
“I did no such thing,” he sneered. “I’ve heard what you all are up to. What a shit show you all are. My condolences, by the way.”
Leo cocked his head to the side in bemusement.
“My condolences for your future loss, or for your life. Or both.” Then Nathan waved his hand lazily goodbye and strutted off into the crowd, leaving Leo holding his bass in silence.
Half an hour from New Orleans, the highway winded around the countryside. Bebop music played from Leo’s phone; however, it could hardly be heard over the wind rushing through the open windows.
“Sorry about the AC.” Leo bit his lip. “And the tape deck. Is there something you wanted to listen to?”
Arachne shrugged. “I don’t care.”
“Don’t you have a favorite type of music?”
“I really don’t.”
He gaped sideways at her.
“I didn’t say I hated music.” She laughed at his expression. “I like music. It’s why I came to listen to you . . . you intrigued me, playing bass and all that. Music just all starts blending together over the centuries, and I don’t have a preference anymore.”
“I’ll remedy that.” He pouted his lips. “I’ll make you a playlist.”
She turned to him with a sour expression, fake hollering over the wind. “Your car is complete shit!”
“I know,” he grumbled. “But she’s my baby, so don’t talk too loud. Jade’ll overhear and get self-conscious.”
Arachne snorted out a laugh. “Jade?”
“Jade Dragon.” Leo caressed the dashboard lovingly.
“Oh heaven,” she rolled her eyes. “You’re one of those. What’s your dream car, then?”
Leo paused, thinking. Then he replied, “Do you mean my realistic dream car, or my fantasy dream car?”
“Ehhh . . .” Arachne rested her cheek on her fist.
Leo’s eyes lit up as he stared intently at the road. “My realistic dream car is an s2000. Ooh—you feel the road under you.”
“Oh, I feel plenty of the road with this car as it is,” she scoffed.
Leo ignored her and continued. “But my fantasy dream car? A Skyline.”
“A what?”
“Nissan GT-R. Really fast, good handling. Flashy as shit.” He nodded his head slowly, just imagining himself driving a sports car down the highway rather than his ‘99 Honda Civic, the top down instead of windows rolled down in an attempt to let any lick of cooling wind through.
“What’s with the vineyard situation?” Leo asked as he steered the Jade Dragon along.
“Ulric and Marceline own the vineyard and they are a local supplier for blood wine,” Arachne explained. “Saint-Germain wants their allegiance because they have a major influence over the food supply in New Orleans.”
“I feel like you’ve been using me and Jade for transportation lately.” Leo put a hand to his heart, feigning betrayal.
“I know how to drive, too.” Arachne rolled her eyes. “I’m faster than a car, anyway.”
“Yet you continue to use me for my car!”
“I like spending time with you.” She smirked. “Is that a crime?”
Leo laughed and shook his head as he turned down a country road.
“So, this is where you get your ethically sourced blood wine?”
“Yes. As I was saying,” she gave him a sideways glance, “they have a supplier from the Red Cross where they take blood donations near the end of their shelf life or less-critical blood types. They have special distribution lines throughout the city. It keeps innocent people from getting attacked by most vampires.”
“I was gonna say, I can’t think it’s ethically sourced when it’s stolen blood from emergency room patients,” Leo sighed. “But I guess if it keeps people from being attacked, that’s something at least.”
“What is most ethical in this situation is kind of . . . gray.”
“I’m getting a lot of those vibes.”
Leo slowed his car as they approached an ornate sign with Crescent Fang Winery painted in cursive font across the wood. He pulled onto a gravel road and parked with the other cars up the hill from the cottage.
Arachne and Leo held hands as they strolled down the path. The evening sun saturated the sky with gold and orange light. They skipped up the steps to the deck, and Leo pushed the bright red door open. They stepped into a rustic room with a few wooden displays of wine bottles and winery merchandise, decorated with fake grapes and leaves. On either side, tables and chairs were scattered about for patrons to be seated, and on the far end of the room was a bar to order and purchase wine. Leo still struggled to tell the difference between vampires and humans. Usually their eyes gave them away with intense hues and expressions, or if he looked closely and caught a glimpse of their teeth. It
seemed to him that most had a mix of both, and the humans were unaware that vampires were seated a few paces away from them.
“Evening!” A petite woman with short dark hair and a caramel complexion smiled from behind the bar. She finished pouring another customer a glass of wine and then waved them forward.
“Arachne,” she cocked her head to the side and put her hands to her hips, speaking with a sing-song creole accent. “Surprised to see you all the way out here.”
“You know I adore your wine.” Arachne flashed her a smile. “And I decided to bring my date out here to meet you. This is Leo.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” Leo held his hand out awkwardly over the counter.
“What a delight!” She shook his hand fiercely. “I’m Marceline. What can I get y’all?”
“We’ll take two flights. One for him, one for me.”
“Gotcha,” Marceline winked. “Take a seat wherever and I’ll bring ‘em out to you.”
Arachne vaguely pointed to a table near the window overlooking the vineyard, away from the other few people sitting and sipping on wine throughout the tasting room. After a few minutes, Marceline brought the flights of wine to their table and a basket with a baguette, cheese, and sausage.
“Complimentary snacks for sha Leo!” Marceline grinned sweetly at him. When she had left, Leo leaned over the table and whispered to Arachne, “Is she going to eat me?”
“What?” Arachne sputtered out laughter.
“She seems really dialed in to me . . . is all . . .”
“Well, I don’t think so, considering Marceline is a werewolf, not a vampire.”
“A . . . oh never mind.” Leo sat back in his chair. Demons. Witches. Vampires. Now, werewolves. “What’s a wolf got to do with a winery for vampires, anyway?”
“Her partner Ulric is a vampire.” Arachne reached for a glass from the flight. She held it out until Leo finally grabbed a glass of his own and clinked his glass to hers.
“Is that weird?” Leo asked as he thought of Eshe.
She nodded after she downed the wine in her flute. “Very. Marceline was ostracized from her pack. Other vampires avoid Ulric.”
Leo’s eyes widened as he realized what Arachne was really trying to do. It wasn’t just about protecting humans from the creatures of the night; it was about unifying all the factions. The witches, vampires, werewolves. Everyone. They sipped the wine and commented on which ones were their favorites. Leo also munched on the snacks in the basket as he reflected on all the vampires and other creatures they’d had to court over the last couple months. When they were done, the few patrons had filtered out. Closing time.
Marceline meandered over to their table and pulled up a chair, sitting in it backwards and resting her arms on the back of it.
“Where y’at?”
“Doing well,” Leo smiled.
“The wine is splendid, as always,” Arachne added.
“Glad to hear! Ulric may come out soon. He doesn’t much like crowds . . .”
As she spoke, a tall, slender man in a tweed vest and trousers peeked from a side hallway. He had sandy-gray colored hair and wore round glasses with fake lenses. “Evening, darlin’!” she beckoned him over. He glanced at Arachne and Leo and then sidled up next to Marceline, resting his right leg on his left knee.
“Arachne.” He nodded his head toward her with a thick Eastern European accent. “I know why you’re here.”
“Honey!” Marceline lightly slapped his shoulder. “That’s no way to welcome guests!”
“Marcy, it would be rude to keep them waiting,” he said and then cleared his throat. “We can’t join you.”
Arachne’s face gave nothing away. She placed her hands, clasped together, on the table.
“I understand why you would come to that conclusion.” Arachne tilted her head.
“It appears the situation might be dangerous.” Ulric frowned. “Word is, a dark force is opposing your efforts at building a court. I will protect my house at any cost.”
“Then you certainly know your arrangement is an already precarious situation, from the perspective of most others . . . Do you side with whatever else is out there?”
Ulric clenched his fists in his lap. Marceline put her hand on his arm.
“I do not align myself with anyone other than Marcy.”
“Well . . .” The fiery sunset light glinted in Arachne’s eyes. She shifted her position and went to stand like they were about to leave. “Your cooperation is always appreciated. Regardless of whether you swear your allegiance to me, you will be safe under my jurisdiction. After all, I’m not unlike yourselves.” She motioned toward Leo. He swallowed and glanced at their faces. Ulric was stoic, still with clenched fists, and Marceline’s brow crinkled and her lips parted with confusion.
“Let’s not overstay our welcome, Leo.” Arachne smiled warmly at him. Leo stood and followed her. They had nearly reached the door when Ulric called out.
“Wait!”
Arachne and Leo turned to look back. Ulric stood from his seat, but did not approach any closer.
“Is it true you have the alliance of witches and other demons?”
“We have the allegiance of one coven and neutrality with two. Vrykos, Bael, and Chio have a physical presence in New Orleans. Other demons are interested. Edgar, for instance.”
Ulric mulled over his words very carefully before speaking. All the while, Leo racked his brain trying to remember who Edgar was. But he wasn’t familiar with that demon. “Marcy and I fought to be where we are now. We’ll continue to fight. But we are tired of fighting alone.”
“You’ll never fight alone again,” Arachne murmured. “Together, we are stronger. Together, you will be free to love, free to farm here.”
“We will consider it,” Ulric said softly.
“And I will make sure your loyalty is well placed.” Arachne smiled and bowed her head slightly toward them. Leo followed Arachne out of the door and down the steps from the porch.
Arachne started up the hill toward the car, but Leo gently grabbed her arm. She spun around, peering up at Leo with a small smile on her lips.
“You weren’t just using me for my car.” He raised his eyebrows.
“Please!” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m just opportunistic. Can we go now?”
“I know. But actually, I was hoping to stay a little longer.”
Arachne cocked her head to the side, intrigued.
“It’s a beautiful evening, and it looks like there’s a nature trail down that way.” He motioned toward a small path through the trees.
“It’s a hot evening.” Arachne crossed her arms over her chest. “Humid as hell for you.”
“I kinda like it.” Leo shrugged. Arachne rolled her eyes, but grasped Leo’s hand as they started toward the trail. They walked for a few minutes, the twilight sun dancing through the leaves. Frogs croaked and cicadas droned in the distance.
“They’re going to think it’s suspicious if we’re prowling around their vineyard,” Arachne muttered.
“For one moment, can you just enjoy yourself?” Leo sighed playfully, smirking. “Every other day you’re working your ass off trying to bring peace to the city. We never get a moment to ourselves.”
“That’s what you called me to do.” Arachne frowned.
“Me?”
“Leo, you’re the one who prompted all of this! Don’t act all innocent,” Arachne scoffed. “You convinced me to pursue the crown and build my own power.”
“All I did was get you to ask the questions you didn’t want to answer.”
“But that’s the thing . . .” Arachne paused at a clearing overlooking the countryside. The sun had dipped below the horizon, painting the grapevine-filled meadow with deep hues of violet. A silver crescent moon rose over the clearing, where fireflies began to waltz in circles. Leo turned slowly to face her. “You gave me grace to grow into who I could be.”
“From that night in the bar, I could tell you just ne
eded a small push.” He grinned, taking both of her hands in his. “I couldn’t have imagined what exactly I was pushing for at first. But I felt you could do so much good if you put your energy into it.”
“You are so patient with me . . .” Arachne let out a breath and then bit her lip. Leo’s heart leapt in his chest. He leaned down and gently pressed his lips to hers.
“I care about you,” Leo murmured in her ear. Arachne grasped his shirt and kissed him back deeply. He ran his fingers through her soft hair, letting the ringlets fall down her back.
Then Leo pulled her up into his arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and her arms over his shoulders. He turned to the nearest tree and pressed her back gently to the trunk, pinning her there with his waist. His pants grew tighter, and he groaned as she kissed his jaw and then his neck. Leo traced his fingers up her body. She moaned as he cupped her breast, and then she gasped.
“I’m not . . .” Arachne shook her head. “I’m not ready.” Leo dropped his hand, instead steadying her against the tree. Her face was flushed, her hair wild around her face.
“You okay?” he murmured.
“Y-yes,” she stuttered. “Just surprised.”
“By . . . ?” Leo smiled slyly.
She didn’t answer, instead gazing out at the vineyard now swirling with the blinking light of fireflies, as if she heard something beyond the sound of rustling trees and the chorus of cicadas and bullfrogs.
“You’re always on edge,” Leo murmured. “But for just one moment, you were free to feel.”
Arachne turned back to him and gently rested her forehead to his.
“You make it dangerously easy to lose focus.” She smiled softly.
A lone howl from a wolf startled Leo. He stepped away from the tree and set Arachne down on the ground. She swept the hair from her face. Across the vineyard, a black wolf with piercing orange eyes watched them intently.
“We should go.” Arachne grasped Leo’s hand. “Marceline is on patrol.”
Leo kept pace with Arachne as they strolled back up the path.
“You said Marceline was a werewolf.” Leo frowned. “It’s not a full moon, yet she’s a wolf?”
Blood Moon (A Louisiana Demontale): Book 1 of the Crescent Crown Saga Page 15
