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Chapter 1
“I don’t give a damn if they throw me down into the deepest, slimiest
pit for eternity. I belong here and no one is going to make me leave. No
one!”
Tabitha Devereaux took a deep breath and struggled not to argue as she
tried to pick the lock on her sister Selena’s handcuffs that Selena had
used to fasten herself to the wrought iron gate that surrounded the
famed Jackson Square. Selena had hidden the key in her bra and Tabitha
had no desire to search there for it.
No doubt that would get them both arrested.
Luckily there wasn’t a big crowd on the street in the middle of October,
right at dusk, but what people were there all stared at them as they
passed by. Not that Tabitha cared. She was more than used to people
looking at her and thinking her strange. Even insane.
She prided herself on both. She also prided herself on being available
to her friends and family in a crisis. And right now, big sister Selena
was in an emotional turmoil second only to the time when Selena’s
husband Bill had been in a severe car wreck that had almost killed him.
Tabitha fumbled with the lock. The last thing she wanted was to have her
sister arrested.
Again.
Selena tried to push her away, but she refused to budge, so Selena bit
her.
Tabitha jumped back with a yelp as she shook her hand in an effort to
relieve the pain. Completely unremorseful about it, Selena was sprawled
on the cobbled steps that led into the Square in a pair of ripped jeans
and a large navy sweater that obviously belonged to Bill. Selena’s long,
curly brown hair was braided and oddly sedate. No one would recognize
Madame Selene as she was known to the tourists, except for the big sign
Selena was holding that said, “Psychics have rights too.”
Ever since they had passed that stupid, asinine law that the psychics
couldn’t read cards in the Square for tourists anymore, Selena had been
fighting it. Earlier, the police had forced her sister out of the
Federal Building for protesting and so Selena had headed over here to
chain herself to the gate not far from where she had once set up her
card table for reading other people’s futures.
Too bad she couldn’t see her own fate as clearly as Tabitha could if
Selena didn’t unhook herself from this blessed fence.
Overwrought and angry, Selena kept waving her sign. There was no
reasoning with her. But then Tabitha was used to that too. High
emotions, obstinacy and insanity ran deep in their Cajun-Romanian
family.
“C’mon, Selena,” she said, trying yet again to soothe her. “It’s already
dark. You don’t want to be Daimon bait out here, do you?”
“I don’t care!” She sniffed and pouted. “They won’t eat my soul anyway
since I have no friggin’ will to live. I just want my home back. This is
my spot and I’m not leaving.” She punctuated each of the last words with
a pounding of her sign against the stones.
“Fine.” Sighing in disgust, Tabitha sat down near her, but not so close
that Selena could bite her again. She wasn’t about to leave her older
sister out here alone. Especially since Selena was so upset.
If the Daimons didn’t get her, a mugger would.
And so here the two of them sat like two immovable bumps on a log.
Tabitha dressed all in black with her dark auburn hair pulled back into
a silver barrette and Selena waving her sign at anyone who came near
them on the Pedestrian Mall and urging them to sign her petition to
change the law.
“Hey, Tabby. What’s up?”
It was a rhetorical question. Tabitha waved at Bradley Gambieri, one of
the docents who led a Vampire tour around the Quarter as Brad headed
toward the tourist center to drop off more brochures. He didn’t even
pause as he passed by. But he did frown at Selena who called him an
imaginative name because he didn’t sign her petition.
Good thing he knew them or he really might be offended.
Tabitha and her sister knew most of the locals who frequented the
Quarter. They had grown up here and had haunted the area around the
Square since they had been young teenagers.
Of course things had changed over the years. A few of the shops had come
and gone. The Quarter was a good deal safer these days than it had been
in the late nineteen eighties and early nineties. However some things
were the same. The bakery, Café Pontalba, Café Du Monde and Corner Café
were in the same place. The tourists still gathered in the Square to
ogle the cathedral and the colorful natives who passed by... and the
vampires and muggers still stalked the streets looking for easy
victims.
The hair on the back of her neck rose.
Tabitha moved her hand instinctively to the hidden sheath in her boot
that concealed a three inch stiletto as she scanned the thinning October
crowd around her.
For the last thirteen years, Tabitha had been a self-styled vampire
slayer. She was also one of the few humans in New Orleans who actually
knew what went on in this town after dark. She was scarred inside and
out from her battles with the damned. And she had sworn her life to
making sure that none of them ever hurt anyone else on her watch.
It was an oath she took seriously and she would kill anyone or anything
she had to.
But as her gaze found the tall, exotically erotic man sporting a black
backpack coming around the corner of the Presbytere building, she
relaxed.
It’d been a couple of months since he’d last been in town. In truth,
she’d missed him a lot more than she should have.
Against her will and common sense, she’d let Acheron Parthenopaeus worm
his way into her guarded heart. But then Ash was a hard man not to
adore.
His long, sensuous gait was impossible to ignore and every female,
except for the distraught Selena, in the Square was held transfixed by
his presence. They all paused to watch him walk by. It was impossible
not to. He was compelling and sexy in a way very few men were.
He held an aura that was dangerous and wild and by his slow, languorous
moves, it was obvious that he would be incredible in bed. It was
something you just knew intrinsically when you saw him and it rippled
through your body like hot, seductive chocolate.
Standing six feet eight, Ash always stood out in a crowd. Like her, he
was dressed all in black.
His Godsmack t-shirt was a bit large and untucked, but even so it didn’t
detract from that fact that Ash was seriously ripped. And his
custom-made leather pants cupped a butt so prime, it begged for a
groping.
Not that she ever would. An undefinable air about him warned people to
keep their hands to themselves if they wanted to keep breathing.
She smiled as she noted his boots. Ash had a thing for German Goth
clothing. Tonight he had on a pair of black biker boots that had nine
vampire bat buckles going up the length of them.
He wore his long black hair loose and flowing around his shoulders. It
was a perfect drape for a face that was eerily pretty and yet wholly
masculine. Flawless. There was something about Ash that made every
hormone in her body stand up and pant for more.
Yet for all his sexual attractiveness, there was also an aura so dark
and deadly that it kept her from ever thinking of him as anything more
than a friend.
And he was a friend ever since she had met him at her twin sister
Amanda’s wedding three years ago. Since then, they had crossed paths
repeatedly as he visited New Orleans and helped her keep watch against
the city’s predators.
Now he was a regular part of her family, especially since he often
stayed at her twin sister’s house and was, in fact, the godfather for
her twin sister’s daughter.
He stopped beside her and cocked his head. With his dark sunglasses on,
Tabitha couldn’t tell if he was looking at her or Selena. But it was
obvious he was bemused by the two of them.
“Hey, gorgeous babe,” Tabitha said. She smiled as she realized his
t-shirt paid tribute to the Godsmack song Vampires. How strangely
apropos since Ash was an immortal who came equipped with his own set of
fangs. “Nice shirt.”
Ignoring her compliment, he pulled the black backpack off his shoulder
and flipped his sunglasses up to show his eerie, swirling silver eyes
that seemed to flash in the darkness. “How long has Selena been
handcuffed to the fence?”
“About half an hour. I figured I’d hang out with her and keep her from
becoming a Daimon-kabob.”
“I wish,” Selena muttered. She raised her voice and slung her arms wide.
“Here I am, vampires, come and end my misery!”
Tabitha and Ash exchanged a half-amused, half-irritated look at her
dramatics.
Ash moved to sit down beside Selena. “Hi Lanie,” he said quietly as he
kept the backpack at his feet.
“Go away, Ash. I’m not leaving here until they repeal their law. I
belong in this Square. I was raised here.”
Ash nodded in understanding. “Where’s Bill?”
“He’s a traitor!” Selena snarled.
Tabitha answered the question. “He’s probably at the courthouse holding
ice to a private area after Selena racked him and accused him of being
‘the man who is holding her down.’”
Ash’s face softened as if the thought amused him.
“He deserved it,” Selena said defensively. “He told me that the law is
the law and that I had to obey it. Screw that. I’m not going anywhere
until they change it.”
“Guess I’ll be here for awhile,” Tabitha said wistfully.
“You can make them repeal the law,” Selena said, turning toward Ash.
“Can’t you?”
Ash leaned back against the fence.
“Don’t get too close to her, Ash,” Tabitha warned. “She’s been known to
bite.”
“That makes two of us,” he said with a hint of humor in his voice as his
fangs flashed. “But I somehow think my bite might hurt a little more.”
“You’re not funny,” Selena said sullenly.
Ash draped an arm over Selena’s shoulder. “C’mon, Lane. You know it’s
not going to change anything for you to stay here. Sooner or later a cop
will come by–“
”And I’ll assault him.”
Ash tightened his hold on her. “You can’t assault them for doing their
job.”
“Yes I can!”
Still, he managed to remain calm while dealing with the Queen of
Hysteria. “Is that really what you want to do?”
“No. I want my stand back,” Selena said, her voice breaking from her
grief and pain.
Tabitha’s own chest was tight in sympathetic agony for her.
“I wasn’t hurting anyone by having a table here. This is my space. I’ve
had my stand right here in this spot since 1986! It’s so not fair for
them to make me leave because those stupid artists are jealous. Who
wants one of their crappy paintings of the Quarter anyway? They’re
stupid. What’s New Orleans without her psychics? Just another boring,
rundown tourist town, that’s what!”
Ash held her sympathetically. “Times change, Selena. Believe me, I know,
and sometimes there’s nothing you can do about it except to let it go.
No matter how much you want to stop time, it has to go forward and move
on to something else.”
Tabitha heard the sadness in his voice as he spoke comfortingly to her
sister. Ash had been alive for more than eleven thousand years. He
remembered New Orleans back in the days when it had barely qualified as
a town. For that matter, he probably remembered New Orleans before any
kind of civilization had claimed it.
If anyone knew about change, it was Acheron Parthenopaeus.
Ash wiped the tears from Selena’s face and angled her chin so that she
was staring at the building across the street from them. “You know, that
building is up for sale. Madame Selene’s Tarot Reading and Mystical
Boutique. Can you imagine it?”
Selena snorted at that. “Yeah, right. Like I can afford it. Have you any
idea what the real estate here goes for?”
Ash shrugged. “Money’s not a problem for me. Say the word and it’s
yours.”
Selena blinked at him as if she couldn’t believe what he was offering
her. “Really?”
He nodded. “You could put a sign up right here that points people to
your brand new store where you can read cards to your heart’s content.”
Finally seeing a solution to her sister’s temporary dementia and
grateful to Ash for it, Tabitha sat forward so that she could look at
Selena. “You’ve always said you’d like to be someplace where it can’t
rain you out.”
Selena cleared her throat as she considered it. “It would be nice to
look out from the building instead of into it.”
“Yeah,” Tabitha said. “You’d no longer freeze in the winter or blister
in the summer. Climate control all year long. No more wheeling your cart
up here and setting up the table and chairs. You could even have a Lazy
Boy in the backroom and carry all sorts of Tarot card decks. Tia would
be jealous as all get out since she’s been wanting a shop closer to the
Square. Think about it.”
“You want it?” Ash asked.
Selena nodded enthusiastically.
Ash pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. “Hey Bob,” he said
after a brief pause. “This is Ash Parthenopaeus. There’s a building for
sale on St. Anne’s in Jackson Square... yeah that one. I want it.” He
offered a close-lipped smile to Selena. “No, I don’t need to see it.
Just have the keys out here in the morning.” He pulled the phone aside.
“What time can you meet him here, Selena?”
“Ten?”
He repeated it into the phone. “Yeah and make the deed out to Selena
Laurens. I’ll swing by tomorrow afternoon and handle the payment. All
right. Have a good one.” Ash hung up the phone and returned it to his
pocket.
Selena smiled up at him. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” The instant he stood up, the handcuff fell free of the
gate and Selena’s arm.
Jeez, that man had some fearsome powers. Tabitha just wasn’t sure which
was more impressive. The one that broke the handcuff off Selena without
a scratch or the one that allowed him to drop a couple of million
dollars without blinking.
He held his hand out to Selena and helped her to her feet. “Just make
sure you carry a lot of bright, shiny things for Simi to buy whenever
we’re here.”
Tabitha laughed at the mention of Ash’s demon... something... Tabitha
still didn’t know if Simi was Ash’s girlfriend or what. The two of them
had a very odd relationship.
Simi demanded and Ash gave without hesitation.
Unless it involved Simi killing and eating someone. Those were the only
times she’d ever seen Ash put his foot down with the demon he kept
secret from most of his Dark-Hunters.
The only reason Tabitha even knew about Simi was that the demon often
joined them for movies.
For some reason, Ash really loved the cinema and Tabitha had been going
to see movies with him for the last two years. His favorites were horror
and action flicks. Meanwhile the Simi was a most unusual and
discriminating being who made him sit through “girl” movies that often
left Ash groaning.
“Where is the Simster tonight?” Tabitha asked.
Ash brushed his hand over the dragon tattoo on his forearm. “She’s
hanging around. But it’s too early for her. She doesn’t like to be out
and about until at least nine.” He slung the backpack over his shoulder.
Selena stood on her tiptoes and pulled Ash down so that she could hug
him. “I’ll carry an entire line of Kirk’s Folly just for Simi.”
Smiling, he patted her on the back. “No more handcuffs, right?”
Selena pulled away. “Well Bill did say that I could protest with him
later in the bedroom and I do owe him for that kick I gave him, so...”
Ash laughed as Selena scooped up the cuffs from the street.
“And you wonder why I’m nuts,” Tabitha said as Selena tucked them into
her back pocket.
Ash pulled his glasses back down to cover his eerie, swirling silver
eyes. “At least she’s entertaining.”
“And you’re way too charitable.” But then that was what Tabitha loved
most about Ash. He always saw the good in everyone. “So what are you up
to tonight?” she asked Ash while Selena folded up her handmade sign.
Before he could answer, a large black Harley motorcycle came roaring
down St. Anne. When it reached the turn that would have taken the rider
down Royal Street, the bike stopped and was shut off.
Tabitha watched as the tall, lithe rider, who was decked out all in
black biker leathers, held the bike upright between his thighs with ease
and pulled the helmet off.
To her surprise, it was an African-American woman, and not a man, who
set the helmet down before her on the bike’s gas tank and unzipped her
jacket. Extremely gorgeous, she was slender but muscular, with medium
brown skin and a flawless complexion. She wore her jet black hair in
braids that were pulled back into a ponytail.
“Acheron,” she said in a sing-song Carribean accent. “Where should I
park me ride?”
Ash indicated Decatur Street behind him. “There’s a public lot on the
other side of the Brewery. I’ll wait here until you get back.”
The woman’s gaze went to Tabitha, then Selena.
“They’re friends,” Ash said. “Tabitha Devereaux and Selena Laurens.”
“Sisters-in-law to Kyrian?”
Ash nodded.
“I am Janice Smith,” she said to them. “Nice to meet friends of the
Hunters.”
Tabitha was sure that was a double entendre that stemmed not so much
from Kyrian’s last name as from his former occupation of being a
Dark-Hunter– one of the immortal warriors like Janice and Ash who
guarded the night against vampires, demons and rogue gods.
Janice started her motorcycle and roared off.
“New Dark-Hunter?” Selena asked before Tabitha had a chance.
He nodded. “Artemis transferred her here from the Florida Keys to help
Valerius and Jean-Luc. Tonight’s her first night so I thought I’d give
her a tour of the city.”
“Need any help?” Tabitha asked.
“Nah. I got it. Just try not to stake Jean-Luc again if you meet up with
him.”
Tabitha laughed at his reference to the night she had inadvertently met
the pirate Dark-Hunter. It had been dark and Jean-Luc had grabbed her
from behind in an alley while she was stalking after a group of Daimons.
All she had seen was fangs and tallness, so she had struck.
Jean-Luc had yet to forgive her.
“I can’t help it. All you fanged people look alike in the dark.”
Ash grinned. “Yeah. I know what you mean. All you soul-full people look
alike to us too.”
Tabitha shook her head at him as she continued laughing. She wrapped her
arm around Selena and started toward Decatur where Selena had left her
Jeep across the street.
It didn’t take long to get her sister home and situated with a very
hesitant Bill who wasn’t sure if Selena would rack him again or not.
Once Tabitha was satisfied that Selena would be okay...and Bill... she
headed back to the Quarter to patrol for Daimons.
It was a relatively quiet night out. She followed her usual habits of
stopping in at the Café Pontalba and getting four plates of red beans
and rice with Cokes to go and taking the meals down to an alley off of
Royal Street where many of the homeless were known to congregate. Since
the city had decided to crackdown on vagrants and homeless, they weren’t
nearly as prevalent as they once were. Now they, like the vampires she
sought, kept to the shadows where they were forgotten.
But Tabitha knew they were there and she never let herself forget about
them.
Tabitha left the food on an old rusted barrel and turned to leave.
As soon as she reached the edge of the street’s sidewalk, she heard
people scurrying for the food.
“Hey, if you want a job-“
But they were gone before she could get anything more than that out.
Sighing, Tabitha headed down Royal. She couldn’t save the world, she
knew that. But at least she could see to it that some of the hungry were
fed.
With no real destination in mind, she wandered down the lonely streets
and browsed in the jewelry shop windows.
“Hey, Tabby, killed any vamps lately?”
She looked ahead to see Richard Crenshaw coming toward her. A waiter at
Mike Anderson’s Seafood which was just a couple of doors down from her
own store, she knew him well. He had a bad habit of coming in whenever
he got off work and hitting on the strippers who ordered custom-made
costumes from her.
As usual, he was laughing at her. That was fine. Most people did. In
fact, most people thought she was insane. Even her own family had
laughed at her for years...until her twin sister had ended up married to
a Dark-Hunter and had faced a vampire who had almost killed her.
Suddenly her family realized that her preternatural stories over the
years weren’t total hallucinations or fabrications.
“Yeah,” she said to Richard, “I dusted one last night.”
He rolled his eyes and laughed at her as he walked on past.
“You’re welcome, Dick,” she said under her breath as he kept going. The
Daimon she’d killed had been hovering around the backdoor of Mike
Anderson’s where Richard was known to take out the trash right before he
got off work. If Tabitha hadn’t killed him, Richard would most likely be
dead now.
Whatever. She didn’t really want thanks for what she did and she
certainly didn’t expected it.
She kept walking down the street, feeling extremely lonely tonight. How
she wished she could live her life blindly, never knowing what was out
here.
But she wasn’t blind. She knew and with that knowledge came the choice
of either helping people or turning her back on them. Never in her life
had Tabitha been the kind of person who turned her back on someone in
need. Her powers as an empath were too much for her sometimes. She felt
the pain of others just as much as she felt her own.
It was what had drawn Ash to her in the beginning. Over the last three
years, he had taught her several tricks to dampen down other’s emotions
and to focus on her own. He’d been a godsend to her and had done more
for her sanity than anyone else. Still, his tricks didn’t silence them
totally.
At times it was all completely overwhelming. She was so bombarded by
intense emotions, that it set off hers and sometimes caused her to lash
out verbally just from the stress of it.
So here she was, another lonely night spent walking the streets by
herself as she risked her life for people who mocked her.
Patrolling was certainly much more fun when she’d done this with a group
of friends.
Tabitha forced herself not to remember Trish and Alex who’d died in the
line of duty. But it was useless. Tears filled her eyes as she touched
the jagged scar on her face that Desiderius had given her. The worst
sort of psycho, Desiderius had been the Daimon out to kill her twin
sister and brother-in-law.
Luckily, Amanda and Kyrian had survived. Tabitha just wished she’d been
killed that night instead of her friends. It wasn’t right for them to
pay such a high price when Tabitha had been the one to talk them into
helping her in the first place.
God, why couldn’t she have kept her mouth shut and just left them alone
to live out their lives in ignorance and peace?
It was why she fought alone now. She would never again ask anyone to
risk their life to do what she did.
They had a choice about this.
She didn’t.
Tabitha slowed down her walk as she got the familiar tickle down the
center of her spine.
Daimons...
They were behind her.
Turning around, she knelt down and pretended to tie the laces on her
boot. Meanwhile she was well aware of the six shadows that were closing
in on her...
###
Valerius pulled at the edge of his right leather Coach glove to
straighten it as he walked down the virtually abandoned street. As
always, he was impeccably dressed in a long black cashmere coat, a black
turtleneck and black slacks. Unlike most Dark-Hunters, he wasn’t a
leather wearing barbarian.
He was the epitome of sophistication. Breeding. Nobility. His family had
been descended from one of the oldest and most respected noble families
of Rome. As a former Roman general whose father had been a well
respected senator, Valerius would have gladly followed in the man’s
footsteps had the Parcea or Fates not intervened.
But that was the past and Valerius refused to remember it. Agrippina was
the only exception to that rule. She was the only thing he ever
remembered from his human life.
She was the only thing worth remembering from his human life.
Valerius winced and focused his thoughts on other, much less painful
things. There was a crispness in the air that announced winter would be
here soon. Not that New Orleans had a winter compared to what he’d been
used to in DC.
Still, the longer he was here the more his blood was thinning and the
cool night air was a bit chilly to him.
Valerius paused as his Dark-Hunter senses detected the presence of a
Daimon. Tilting his head, he listened with his heightened hearing.
He heard a group of men laughing at their victim.
And then he heard the strangest thing of all...
“Laugh it up, asshole. But she who laughs last, laughs longest and I
intend to belly roll tonight.”
A fight broke out.
Valerius whirled on his heel and headed back the direction he’d come
from.
He skirted through the darkness until he found an ajar gate that led to
a courtyard.
There in the back was six Daimons fighting a tall human woman.
Valerius was mesmerized by the macabre beauty of the battle. One Daimon
came at the woman’s back. She flipped him over her shoulder and twirled
in one graceful motion to stab him in the chest with a long, black
dagger.
She twirled as she rose up to face another one. She tossed the dagger
from one hand to the other and held it like a woman well used to
defending herself from the undead.
Two Daimons rushed her. She actually did a cartwheel away from them, but
the other Daimon had anticipated her action. He grabbed her.
Without panicking, the woman surrendered her weight by picking both of
her legs up to her chest. It brought the Daimon to his knees. The woman
sprang to her feet and whirled to stab the Daimon from his back.
He evaporated.
Normally the remaining Daimons would flee. The last four didn’t. Instead
they spoke to each other in a language he hadn’t heard in a long time...
Ancient Greek.
“Little chickie la la, isn’t dumb enough to fall for that, guys,” the
woman answered back in flawless Greek.
Valerius was so stunned he couldn’t move. In over two thousand years,
he’d never seen or heard of anything like this. Not even the Amazons had
ever produced a better fighter than the woman who confronted the
Daimons.
Suddenly a light appeared behind the woman. It flashed bright and
swirling. A chill, cold wind swept through the courtyard before six more
Daimons stepped out.
Valerius went rigid at something even rarer than the warrior-woman
fighting the Daimons.
###
Tabitha turned slowly to see the group of new Daimons. Holy shit. She’d
only seen this one other time.
The new batch of Daimons looked at her and laughed. “Pitiful human.”
“Pitiful this,” she said as tossed her dagger at his chest.
He moved his hand and deflected the dagger before it reached him. Then
he slung his arm toward her. Something invisible and painful slashed
through her chest as she went flying head over heels.
Dazed and scared, Tabitha lay on the ground.
Horrible memories ripped through her of the night when her friends had
died. The way the Spathi Daimons had torn through them...
No, no, no.
They were dead. Kyrian had killed them all.
Her panic tripled as she struggled to right herself.
Her head was dizzy, her vision blurry as she pushed herself to her feet.
###
Valerius was across the alley in microseconds as he saw the woman fall.
The tallest Daimon who stood even in height to Valerius laughed. “How
nice of Acheron to send us a playmate.”
Valerius pulled his two retractable swords from his coat and extended
the blades. “Play is for children and dogs. Now that you have identified
which category you fall into, I’ll show you what Romans do to rabid
dogs.”
One of the Daimons smiled. “Romans? My father always told me that all
Romans die squealing like pigs.”
The Daimon attacked.
Valerius sidestepped and brought his sword down. The Daimon pulled a
sword out of nothing and parried his attack with a skill that bespoke a
man with years or training.
The Daimons struck at once.
Valerius dropped his swords and swung out with his arms, releasing the
grappling hooks and cords that were attached to his wrist. The hooks
went straight into the chest of the tallest Daimon and the one he was
fighting.
Unlike most Daimons, they didn’t disintegrate instantly. They stared at
him with hollow eyes before they burst into a golden dust.
But while he was distracted by them, another Daimon retrieved his sword
and cut him across his back. Valerius hissed in pain before he turned
and elbowed the Daimon across the face.
The woman was back on her feet. She killed two more Daimons while he
killed the one who had wounded him.
Valerius wasn’t sure what had happened to the others and in truth he was
having a bit of trouble moving from the vicious pain of his back.
“Die Daimon snot!” the woman snarled at him an instant before she, too,
stabbed him straight in the chest.
She pulled the dagger out instantly.
Valerius hissed and staggered back as pain ripped through his heart. He
clutched at his chest, unable to think past the agony of it.
Tabitha bit her lip in terror as she saw the man recoil and not explode
into dust.
“Oh, shit,” she breathed, rushing to his side. “Please tell me you’re
some screwed up Dark-Hunter and that I didn’t just kill an accountant or
lawyer.”
The man hit the street hard.
Tabitha rolled him over onto his back and checked his breathing. His
eyes were partially opened, but he wasn’t speaking. He held his jaw
clamped firmly shut as he groaned deep in his throat.
Terrified, she still wasn’t sure who she had mistakenly stabbed. Her
heart hammering, she pulled up his turtleneck to see the nasty looking
stab wound in the center of his chest.
And then she saw what she had hoped for...
He had a bow and arrow brand above his right hipbone.
“Oh thank God,” she breathed as relief poured through her. He was in
fact a Dark-Hunter and not some unfortunate human she’d stabbed.
She grabbed her phone and called Acheron to let him know one of his men
had been hurt, but he didn’t answer.
So she started dialing her sister, Amanda until her common sense
returned. There were only four Dark-Hunters in this city. Ash who led
them. Janice whom she had met earlier. The former pirate captain,
Jean-Luc and...
Valerius Magnus.
He was the only Dark-Hunter she didn’t know personally in New Orleans.
And he was the mortal enemy of her brother-in-law.
She hit the cancel button on her phone. Kyrian would kill this man in a
heartbeat and bring down the wrath of Artemis fully on his head. The
goddess would kill Kyrian for it and that was the last thing Tabitha
wanted to see happen. Her sister would die if anything happened to her
husband.
Come to think of it, if half of what Kyrian said about this man and his
family was true, she should just leave him here and let him die.
But then Ash would never forgive her if she did that to one of his men.
More than that, she couldn’t leave him here. Like it or not, he had
saved her life and she was honor bound to return the favor.
Wincing, she realized she was going to have to get him to safety. And he
was just a little too large for her to handle on her own. She dialed her
phone again and waited for an answer that came in a slick, Cajun drawl.
“Hey, Nick, it’s Tabitha Devereaux. I’m in the old courtyard off Royal
Street with a man down and I need help. Any chance you want to be my
knight in shining armor tonight and lend a hand to a damsel in
distress.”
Nick Gautier’s smooth laugh rippled in her ear. “Why, chere, you know I
live for such moments. I’ll be right there.”
“Thanks,” she said before she gave him precise directions and hung up.
A New Orleans native like herself, Nick had been an acquaintance of hers
for years since the two of them frequented many of the same restaurants
and clubs. Not to mention, Nick had brought a few of his girlfriends
into her store to browse some of the racier outfits that Tabitha sold in
her adult boutique, Pandora’s Box.
A charming rogue, Nick was about as handsome as any man she’d ever seen.
He had dark brown hair that tended to stay in a pair of eyes that were
so blue and seductive they really should be illegal.
And when it came to his smile...
Not even she was entirely immune to it.
She’d been stunned to learn at her sister’s wedding three years ago that
Nick actually worked for the undead. Rumors on the street had always
abounded on what Nick did for a living. Every native who haunted the
Quarter knew the man had a ton of cash and no real job that anyone could
discern. When he’d shown up as best man for Kyrian, she’d been
completely shocked.
But since that night, she and Nick had forged an odd alliance of
drinking buddies and partners-in-crime who lived to rankle the
Dark-Hunters. It was really nice to have someone she could talk to who
knew that the vampires were real and who understood the dangers she
faced every night.
Tabitha sat down on the cobbled walk to wait on Nick. Valerius still
wasn’t moving. She cocked her head to study Kyrian’s great Satan.
According to her brother-in-law, Valerius and his Roman family had been
the worst sort of bastards.
They had killed and raped any and everything that came into their paths
as they led bloody campaigns across the ancient world. She would have
taken Kyrian’s aspersions with more grains of salt if it wasn’t for the
fact that other Dark-Hunters concurred.
To her knowledge, no one liked Valerius.
No one.
But as she watched his light breathing, he didn’t look so ominous.
Probably because he’s practically dead.
Actually, he was all dead. But still breathing. The moonlight cast
shadows over the handsome planes of his face and showed the tears in his
clothing where he was still bleeding. If he could bleed to death, she’d
hold a compress to his chest wound, but since he couldn’t she stayed
put.
“How did you die?” she whispered. Kyrian didn’t know and in all her
readings about ancient Rome and Greece, Valerius’s name had seldom been
mentioned. For all the brutality that Kyrian accused him of, Valerius
Magnus wasn’t much more than a footnote in history.
“Hey, Tab, you in here?”
She breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of Nick’s deep Cajun drawl.
Thank goodness he only lived three blocks away and knew how to hustle in
a jam. “I’m over here.”
Dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a short sleeved blue shirt, Nick
quickly joined her, then cursed the instant he saw who was lying on the
ground.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he snarled after she asked him to help
her get Valerius up. “I wouldn’t throw piss on that man if he were on
fire.”
“Nick!” Tabitha said, shocked at his rancor. Normally Nick was the most
laid back of men. “That was uncalled for.”
“Oh yeah, right. I notice you didn’t call Kyrian for this. Why is that,
Tabitha? Cause he’d kill you both?”
She stamped down her own temper which would only set his off more if she
started telling him how juvenile he was behaving. “C’mon, Nick. Don’t be
like that. I don’t want to help him either, but Ash won’t answer the
phone and no one else seems to like him.”
“Damn straight. Everyone, but you, has a brain. Let him rot on the
street.”
She stood up and faced him with her hands on her hips. “Fine. You
explain to Ash why one of his Hunters was killed then. You deal with his
anger. I’m out of it.”
Nick narrowed his eyes on her. “You really suck, Tabby. Why didn’t you
call Eric for this?”
“Because it’s awkward to ask your ex who is happily married to someone
else for favors, okay? I somehow thought my friend Nick wouldn’t hassle
me over this, but I can see now that I was wrong.”
He gave an exaggerated wince at that. “I really hate this man, Tabitha.
I’ve known Kyrian too long and owe him too much to render aid to the man
whose grandfather crucified him.”
“And we are not responsible for the actions of our family members, are
we, Nick?”
His jaw ticked at that.
Nick’s father had been convicted murderer who had died in a prison riot.
It was well known by everyone that his father was a repeat felon who had
spent the whole of Nick’s youth in and out of jail for all sorts of
unsavory crimes. Nick himself had been well on his way to joining his
father’s fate when Kyrian had stepped in and saved him.
“That’s low, Tab, real low.”
“But it’s true. Now, please, forget that he’s a dickhead and help me get
him home, okay?”
Nick growled at her before he came near them. “Do you know where he
lives?”
“No, do you?”
“Somewhere over in the Garden District.” Nick pulled out his phone and
dialed a number. After a minute, he cursed. “Otto answer the phone.” He
cursed again, then hung up and glared at her. “You know it’s bad when
the guy’s own Squire won’t answer to save him.”
“Maybe Otto’s busy.”
“Maybe Otto’s psychic.”
“Nick...”
Nick put his phone in his pocket, then bent over, tossed Valerius over
his shoulder and headed out of the courtyard to where his Jaguar was
parked on the street. He dumped Valerius unceremoniously into the seat.
“Watch his head, Nick!” she snapped as Nick banged it against the car.
“Not like I could kill him or anything. What happened to him, anyway?”
“I stabbed him.”
Nick blinked, then burst out laughing. “I knew I liked you for a reason.
Oh man, I can’t wait to tell Kyrian. He’ll laugh his ass off.”
“Yeah well, in the meantime, take Valerius back to my place and give me
Otto’s number so that I can keep trying to call him.”
“And you want to tell me how I’m going to get him to your place since
Bourbon Street is closed off to traffic after dark?”
She gave him a droll stare.
He growled at her. “Fine, but you owe me big time.”
“Yeah, yeah. Get cracking, Squire.”
He mumbled something under his breath that she was sure was less than
complimentary before he walked to the other side of his car and got in.
Since his car was a two-seater, Tabitha headed out on foot to rendezvous
with him at her store. As she walked into the crowd on Bourbon Street,
she felt something evil brush up against her psychically.
Spinning around, she scanned the crowd, but didn’t see anything.
Still, she felt it deep inside.
“Something wicked this way comes...” she breathed the title of her
favorite Ray Bradbury book.
And something inside told her it was far more evil than anything she had
faced before.
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